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THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2010  witii  funding  from 

University  of  Nortii  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/captainofcompanyOOkirk 


"Detroit  Free-Press"  Competition,  First-Prize  Story. 


THE 

Captain  of 

Company  K 


BY 


JOSEPH    KIRKLAND, 

Late  Major  and  A.-D.-C,  U.-S.  Volunteers. 


PROFUSELY  ILLUSTRATED  FROM  DRAWINGS  BY  HUGH  CAPPER. 


CHICAGO: 

DIBBLE   PUBLISHING   COMPANY, 

260  Clark  Street. 

1891. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  189T,  by 

Joseph  Kirkland, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


To  THE 

SURVIVING  MEN  OF  THE  FIRING  LINE, 

THE  Men  who  could  See  the  Enemy  in  Front  of  Them 

WITH  THE  Naked  Eye  while  they  would  have  needed 

A  Field-Glass  to  see  the  History- Makers 

Behind  Them,  this  Story  is  Humbly 

AND  Affectionately  Dedicated. 


603000 


FULL-PAGE    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"Is  THIS  Really  your  Tent?" 39 

"  Tear— Cartridge  ! " 73 

Mark  Leaned  Foravard, 87 

The  Great  Doors  were  Wide  Open,     .        -        -  131 

"AuLD  Colin  'll  see  ye  Through,"    ...        -  165 

"My  Remarks  are  not  Drifting,  Colonel,"         -  207 

"My!  Aint  She  Peaches?" 253 

"For  God's  Sweet  Sake,  Don't  Leave  Me!"        -  275 

"Send  'em  Your  Cards  and  then  Get  Down,"         -  289 

Mark  Arrived, 339 

WiLL.'s  Cry  burst  on  the  Still  Air,         .        -        .  343 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER    I. 
How  THE  Captain  came  to  be  Captain,     -        -        «  9 

CHAPTER    II. 
Poor  Sally! -        n  20 

CHAPTER    III. 
Father  and  Sally  visit  Camp, 28 

CHAPTER    IV. 
The    Tompion, 42 

CHAPTER    V. 

The  Meeting, 5^ 

CHAPTER    VI. 
Forward,  March!     - 67 

CHAPTER    VII. 
The  Skirmish, 81 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
The  Flag  of  Truce,        -..-.-  99 

CHAPTER    IX. 
Bursting  Shells, 113 

CHAPTER    X. 
Honor  and  Oblivion, 122 

CHAPTER    XI. 
Chicago  Again,     -        -        - 138 

CHAPTER    XII. 
Achilles  Hectored, 152 

CHAPTER    XIII. 
"Will,  Fargeon,  You're  A  Goose!"    -        -        -        -      163 

7 


^  CONTENTS, 

CHAPTER    XIV. 
Boat,  Bivouac,  and  Breakfast,        -        -         •        -  176 

CHAPTER    XV. 
The  Affair  on  the  Right,        -        -        -        -        -      188 

CHAPTER    XVI. 
Grant  to  the   Rescue, 199 

CHAPTER    XVII. 
The  Forlorn  Hope, 211 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

What  Mac's  Field -Glass  showed,  -        -  225 

CHAPTER    XIX. 
The  Lady  Burden -Sharers, 235 

CHAPTER    XX." 
Hard  Lines  in  Pleasant  Places,    -        -        -        -  248 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
Forward  to  Shiloh, 257 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

The  Sixth  at  the  Battle  of  Shiloh,     -        -        -  268 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 
Battle,  Murder,  and  Sudden  Death,         -        -         •       280 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 
O,  Where  is  Mac? 295 

CHAPTER    XXV. 
Now  for  a  Cork  Leg, 308 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 
The  Fortunes  of  War, 322 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Advance,  Friend,  and  Give  Countersign!  -        -      336 


THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY  K. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW    THE  CAPTAIN  CAME  TO    BE   CAPTAIN. 


[H,  Mr.  Fargeon!    why   are    men 
so  foolish?" 

Her  voice  suggested  weariness 
of  some  old  subject,  perhaps  a 
suit  long  urged  by  him  and  de- 
nied by  her.  Her  slender  hand 
lay  more  heavily  on  his  arm;  and 
(as  he  saw  by  the  gaslight  they 
were  passing)  her  upturned  face 
was  brightened  by  a  smile  that 
shone  through  its  habitual  seri- 
ousness like  a  star  through  rifted  clouds.  The  face  looked 
sweet  and  grave  and  perfect — almost  saintly,  surrounded 
as  it  was  by  a  halo  of  snowy  knitted  woolen  fabric  worn 
to  keep  out  the  evening  air. 
"Why  are  men  so  foolish?" 

"Because  women  are  so  fair,  I  suppose,  Miss  Penrose." 
"Pd  be  willing  to  stop  being — fair,  if  you  choose  to  call 
me  so — if  it  would   persuade   you   to  stop   being   foolish 
about  me." 

"Perhaps  I  might  never  have  begun    being  foolish — if 

9 


lO  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

you  choose  to  call  me  so — if  you  had  never  begun  being 
fair;  but  now  it  would  make  no  difference  even  if  you 
were  suddenly  to  begin  looking  like  other  women,  instead 
of  like  a  new-born  angel,  as  you  do  this  minute." 

"Some  day,  if  I  live,  my  hair  will  be  gray — " 

"That  will  be  becoming." 

"And  my  face  pale  and  thin  and  wrinkled;  my  shoul- 
ders bent,  my  hearing  dull,  and  my  steps  tottering. 
Will  all  that  be  becoming,  too?" 

"Yes;   lovely,  if  it  is  still  you." 

"I  can  already  see  where  the  lines  will  run  in  my  face. 
Now — when  we  come  to  that  gaslight — look!"  [She  raised 
her  beautiful  level  brows  and  wrinkled  her  pretty  fore- 
head.] "And  my  hands — see."  [She  slipped  off  the  mitten 
that  covered  her  left  hand  and  compressed  the  back  with 
her  right  until  it  took  on  a  little  of  the  corrugation  of 
age.] 

"How  about  the  dimple?"  [Dimple,  on  hearing  its 
name  called,  promptly  made  its  appearance  in  its  accus- 
tomed haunt,  Sara's  left  cheek.] 

"Oh,  the  dimple  will  turn  into  a  wrinkle  then." 

"What  sacrilege!  But  I  don't  believe  old  Time  him- 
self could  dim  the  light  of  those  eyes!" 

"Then  I  will  put  on  green  goggles,  for  I  just  long  for 
the  time  when  looks  will  be  off  my  mind!  Now,  let's 
change  the  tiresome  old  subject.  Isn't  the  lake  air  ex- 
hilarating?" 

They  were  walking  briskly  northward  on  the  "long  plank 
walk"  which  in  those  days  (1861)  separated  the  eastern 
front  of  Chicago  from  Lake  Michigan.  The  ice  was  break- 
ing up,  but  not  gone,  and  they  could  hear  the  sullen  moan 
of  floe-burthened  waves  beating  on  the  breakwater,  while 
all  was  blackness  out   there  and  overhead,  except  where 


HOW  THE  CAPTAIN  CAME  TO  BE  CAPTAIN.  II 

some  low- lying  spring  snow-clouds  were  silvered  on  their 
under  side  by  the  reflection  of  the  city  lights. 

"Yes,  it  is  bracing.  I  hope  it  will  brace  up  the  boys 
to  enlist." 

"How  goes  on  the  good  work?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,-  it  seems  as  if  the  first  regiments  that  went  off 
had  taken  all  the  available  men.  Now  we'  re  trying  to  raise 
this  one  in  our  own  line  of  trade.  To-day  I  got  almost 
a  hundred  firms  to  sign  a  paper  promising  to  continue 
the  wages  of  any  of  their  employes  sufficiently  to  make 
army  pay  as  good  as  their  present  pay." 

"You  are  certainly  doing  your  full  duty." 

"I  do  my  level  best.  But  what  do  you  think!  To-day 
Uncle Thorburn  asked  me  why  I  didn't  go  myself!  " 

Both  laughed  at  this  suggestion.  William  Fargeon, 
merchant,  philanthropist,  Sunday-school  superintendent, 
temperance  orator — with  hands  white,  linen  spotless,  and 
well-brushed  hair  growing  thin  in  front — a  soldier! 

"What  did  you  answer?" 

"Oh,  I  told  him  my  forefathers  were  non-resistant 
New  Testament  Christians,  and  I  had  been  so  long  taught 
to  turn  the  other  cheek  I  didn't  believe  I  could  fight  a 
flock  of  new-hatched  wiggle-tail  snipe." 

"Of  course  you  can  do  more  good  to  your  country  than 
that  would  amount  to!  This  meeting  at  the  Wigwam 
to-night  is  of  your  getting  up,  isn't  it?" 

"Your  father's  and  mine;  but  your  father's  speech  will 
be  the  great  card.     Won't  it,  Mr.  Penrose?" 

He  said  the  last  words  looking  over  his  shoulder,  but 
the  quick-pulsed  younger  folks  had  outwalked  the  min- 
ister and  his  wife,  and  the  latter  were  out  of  hearing. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Sara,  "we  all  have  places  on  the 
platform.    But  who  could  imagine  you  a  soldier! ' 


12  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

"There's  not  a  soldierly  hair  in  my  head — and  not  too 
many  of  any  kind." 


The  vast  plain  auditorium  of  the  Wigwam  (where 
Lincoln  had  been  nominated  for  the  presidency  less  than 
a  year  before)  was  cloudy  with  dust  and  echoing  with 
noise. 

And  such  a  throng!  Lydia  Penrose  (Sara's  younger 
sister)  afterward  averred  that  she  was  so  crowded  that 
she  hadn't  room  to  stick  her  tongue  out;  but  this  was 
perhaps  hyperbole.  Her  youthful  brother  expressed  the 
view  that  it  must  be  a  pretty  all-fired  crowd  that  could 
make  Bunny  hold  her  tongue,  whereupon  she  obtruded 
that  member  at  him  in  a  manner  indicating  scorn. 

Flags,  music,  speeches,  thunders  of  applause — it 
seemed  as  if  the  Union  must  be  almost  saved  already. 
Fargeon  made  the  best  speech  of  the  evening.  Wit, 
humor,  invective,  patriotism;  poetry — all  were  at  his  com- 
mand, and  at  every  pause  a  fresh  cloud  of  dust  arose 
from  the  stamping  and  was  blown  abroad  b}^  the  waving 
of  hats  and  handkerchiefs. 

On  long  tables  in  front  of  the  platform  were  offered 
eleven  subscription  papers;  ten  for  signatures  of  volun- 
teers for  companies  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  F,  G,  H,  I,  and  K, 
and  one  pledging  money  for  expenses,  care  of  soldiers' 
families,  etc. 

How  the  latter  filled  up  sheet  after  sheet,  and  how  the 
other  ten — did  not!  When  the  meeting  adjourned,  one 
company,  K,  had  only  eleven  names  on  its  paper.  A 
committee  was  appointed  to  keep  the  Wigwam  open  and 
the  papers  accessible  through  the  week. 

On  joining  the  Penroses,  as  usual,  Fargeon  found  Mr. 
Thorburn — "Uncle  Colin" — with  them.     He  was  a  canny 


HOW  THE   CAPTAIN  CAME  TO  BE   CAPTAIN.  1 3 

Scot — shrewd,  blunt,  outspoken ;  a  merry  twinkle  in 
his  eyes  and  a  sharp  tongue  in  his  mouth.  He  was  a 
favorite  with  them  all,  and  he  walked  home  with  the 
party.  All  spoke  well  of  Fargeon's  efforts,  Sally  being 
especially  ready  with  approving  words — all,  that  is  to 
say,  except  old  Thorburn.  He  preserved  an  ominous 
silence  until  he  and  Fargeon  were  alone  togethero 

"Willum,  ma  lad,"  said  he  in  his  rich  Scottish  burr, 
which,  by  the  way,  he  intensifiedpurposely  or  suppressed 
entirely,  according  to  circumstances,  "  I  mak  na  doot 
ye  will  be  cockerin'  up  yersel'  wi'  the  thought  ye' re  put- 
tin'  in  yer  vera  best  stroaks  for  this  gre't  cause." 

"Can  you  tell  me  how  to  do  better.  Uncle  Colin?" 

"Aweel,  if  all  did  as  weel  as  ye,  dinna  ye  think 
Sumter' d  be  takken  back  in  a  wee  bit?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  complain  of  what  others  are  doing  or  not 
doing." 

"Noo,  Willum,  listen  to  me  whilst  I  tell  ye  what'd  be 
th'  upshot  if  th'  entire  north  wad  rise  oop  and  folly  in 
your  footsteps." 

"Oh,  don't  give  me  too  much  credit — " 

"Bide  a  wee,  bide  a  wee,  ma  lad,  until  ye  hear  what 
kind  o'  creedit  I'm  a-gettin'  at.  Mayhap  it'll  no  mak 
ye  ower  prood.  Here  it's.  If  a'  were  like  William  Far- 
geon, Esquire,  evera  last  Yankee  of  ye  all  wad  be  seekin' 
aboot  to  find  some  ither  mon  t'  gang  doon  Sooth  an'  do 
his  fightin'  for  him." 

They  walked  on  in  silence.  When  their  ways  parted 
Thorburn  said: 

"Aweel,  ma  laddie;  all  I've  got  to  say  til  ye  is  just 
— good-night !" 

Will  had  one  of  his  old  wakeful  nights.  For 
the  first    time    he    began  to  appreciate    what    was    the 


14  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

kind  of  feast  to  which  he  was  inviting  his  fellow-citizens 
— what  a  wrench  of  heart  and  soul  and  body  and  mind  it 
is  for  an  ordinary  man  to  say,  "I  will  go  to  war.  I  will 
bid  good-bye  to  all  that  I  love,  all  my  dear  hopes  of  fort- 
une, my  ease,  my  comfort,  my  safety  of  life  and  limb, 
and  go  forth  to  stand  up  before  the  armed  enemy  in  bat- 
tle." 

Next  morning  he  walked  abroad,  breasted  the  sweet 
spring  sunlight — lovely,  familiar,  natural,  unwarlike — 
and,  with  face  pale  and  set,  went  straight  to  the  Wig- 
wam.    The  twelfth  name  on  the  list  of  Company  K  was: 


[So  used  he  was  to  signing  the  firm  name  that  he  did 
it  unconsciously,  and  had  to  erase  the  closing  part.] 

What  abuzz  went  up  and  down  Lake  street  as  the  news 
spread!  Company  K  had  its  loo  names  before  noon,  and 
the  regiment  its  i,ooo  before  night.  The  meeting  which 
had  been  adjourned  for  a  week  had  to  be  called  for  that 
very  evening.  The  body  of  the  hall  was  reserved  for  the 
enlisted  men,  the  place  of  each  company  being  designated 
by  a  little  guidon.  The  ball  was  started  and  was  gather- 
ing strength.  The  great  building  could  not  hold  the 
spectators,  and  the  welkin  could  scarce  contain  the 
cheers  as  those  solid  ranks  of  the  ten  companies  showed 
themselves  in  their  respective  places.  After  the  band  had 
played  the  "Star  Spangled  Banner,"  Mr.  Penrose  opened 
the  meeting  with  prayer,  as  usual,  and  followed  with  a 
speech  of  high  and  fervid  eloquence.     He  held  his  audi- 


HOW   THE   CAPTAIN   CAME  TO    BE    CAPTAIN.  1 5 

ence  spell-bound  while  he  spoke,  and  even  for  a  minute 
of  silence  after  he  closed,  and  then  came  a  storm  of 
cheers,  with  waving  of  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  that  only 
ceased  when  he  again  arose  and  asked  a  hearing. 

"This  platform  is  short  one  man — its  best  man — the 
man  but  for  whom  we  should  not  be  here  to-night.  May 
I  ask  Mr.  William  Fargeon  to — " 

But  what  he  wanted  Will  to  do  could  only  be  guessed. 
The  cheers  were  wilder  and  more  persistent  than  ever, 
and  cries  of  "Fargeon!"  rent  the  air.  At  last  Will  arose 
and  the  tumult  died  down,  only  to  break  out  again  and 
again  until  it  ceased  from  sheer  exhaustion, 

"Mr.  Chairman,  I  am  in  the  ranks,  where  I  belong.  I 
shall  have  to  leave  to  some  one  else  the  work  to  be  done 
outside  of  them." 

As  he  resumed  his  seat  he  knew,  by  inward  conscious- 
ness as  well  as  by  public  demonstrations,  that  he  had 
made  the  best  speech  of  his  life.  Already  it  sounded 
terse  and  soldierly.  Already  he  was  a  man  of  deeds,  not 
words.     Yet  his  heart  was  troubled. 

The  meeting  adjourned,  and  again  he  found  the  Pen- 
roses  awaiting  him.  He  only  got  to  them  after  his  arm 
was  stiff  with  hand-shaking;  but  they  were  very  patient. 
All  had  hearty  words  for  him — Sally  not  quite  so  fluent 
and  clear-spoken  as  usual;  but  then  her  eyes  had  taken 
on  what  seemed  a  new  and  different  shape  and  expres- 
sion from  that  he  had  been  accustomed  to  in  the  years  he 
had  known  and  loved  her  in  vain.  They  looked  at  his  a 
little  longer,  and  wistfully,  as  if  studying  something  they 
had  never  found  in  his  face  before.  Her  mobile  lips. 
too,  seemed  slightly  changed  and  quivering,  and  her  sweet 
face  was  paler  than  its  wont. 


l6  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"You'll  walk  with  us,  Mr.  Fargeon,  won't  you?"  asked 
Mrs.  Penrose. 

"Sorry  I  can't.  Not  my  own  master  any  more,  you 
know.  An  enlisted  man  now!  Company  K  meets  in  a 
few  minutes  to  ballot  for  company  officers." 

"Oh,  indeed!  So  late?  Well,  if  you  must,  you  must. 
Good-night,  then.      Come  and  see  us  soon." 

"Good-night — and  good-bye!  " 

"What!  "  cried  Sally. 

"We  shall  take  the  cars  for  Cairo  to-morrow  night,  and 
I  have  not  hours  enough  to  do  justice  to  my  company 
and  my  creditors — not  a  minute  for  myself." 

Sara  placed  herself  directly  in  front  of  him. 

"You  can't  go — like  that." 

"That  is  what  war  means." 

"I  wish  to  see  you  before  you  go." 

"I  have  but  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  do  a  thou- 
sand things." 

"One  hour  for  me  leaves  twenty-three  for  the  rest." 

He  tried  to  smile,  and  gently,  slowly  shook  his  head. 
With  a  stubbornness  in  keeping  with  his  new  part  he  re- 
solved not  to  see  Sally  again.  Away  from  her  spell  he 
could  trust  himself;  but  suppose  he  should  see  her  and 
— break  down! 

"I  wish  to  see  you  before  you  go." 

The  young  beauty  spoke  with  assurance,  as  to  a  sub- 
ject to  whom  her  "wish"  had  long  been  law.  But  at  this 
moment  a  voice  called  loudly: 

"William  Fargeon's  ballot  for  captain  of  Company  K 
is  called  for." 

So  he  tore  himself  away  and  plunged  into  the  work. 
Already  he  had  missed  his  chance  to  do  what  he  had  in- 
tended— work  with  might   and   main   for   the  election  to 


HOW  THE   CAPTAIN   CAME   TO    BE  CAPTAIN.  I7 

the  captaincy  of  one  McClintock,  a  man  who  had  learned 
real  soldiering  by  good  service  in  the  Mexican  war.  But 
the  ballot  was  complete  when  he  polled  his  vote — Far- 
geon,  99;  McClintock,  i!  In  vain  did  he  protest  against 
such  action — decline  the  place — insist  on  another  ballot; 
his  voice  was  drowned  in  a  storm  of  "ayes"  to  a  motion 
to  proceed  to  ballot  for  first  lieutenant.  McClintock  was 
elected,  and  the  roster  of  the  company  was  soon  com- 
plete. 

He  thought,  as  he  got  up  next  morning — it  could  hard- 
ly be  called  waking,  so  broken  had  been  his  slumber — 
that  he  was  going  to  have  hard  work  to  keep  his  resolu- 
tion to  see  his  lady-love  no  more;  but  he  was  so  over- 
whelmed with  work  of  all  kinds  that  there  came  no  mo- 
ment when  he  had  deliberately  to  deny  himself  the  tempt- 
ing joy. 

Some  far-seeing  authority  had  requested  that  all  offi- 
cers should  provide  themselves  with  uniforms  before 
starting,  so  that  at  least  a  semblance  of  order  and  disci- 
pline might  be  maintained  during  the  journey  and  on  the 
arrival  at  Cairo.  Fargeon  was,  of  course,  one  of  those 
whose  energy  and  resources  made  it  possible  to  comply 
with  the  instruction. 

Poor  Sally !  She  could  not  at  all  believe  that,  even 
after  all  her  coldness,  her  bitter-sweet  sisterliness,  he 
would  have  the  heart  to  leave  her  so.  While  he  was 
working,  she  was  waiting,  waiting,  starting  at  every  sound 
that  seemed  to  indicate  the  approach  of  her  dear  and 
splendid  friend — her  faithful  lover  through  such  long 
discouragement — now  her  soldier  hero! 

"Going  to  war!  Going  to  be  killed  in  battle!  I  am 
afraid  he  never  would  run  away — even  if  great  big  can- 
nons should  be  pointed  directly  at  him  and  fired  off — all 
2 


1 8  'J  HE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

covered  with  blo.^d — nobody  to  take  care  of  him — in  all 
the  noise  and  under  the  feet  of  the  horses." 

Then  she  cried  in  pity  of  him  and  of  herself. 

After  the  early  parsonage  breakfast  came  the  hours  of 
waiting,  waiting,  that  seemed  an  age  to  her  disordered 
fancy.     At  last  she  burst  into  her  father's  study. 

"Father,  what  are  you  thinking  of?" 

"Of  my  discourse  for  the  Sabbath,  of  course;  what  do 
you  suppose,  at  this  time,  Thursday?"  Then,  altera 
glance  at  her  face:    "Why,  Sara!      What  is  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  father!  "  She  burst  into  tears  and  kneeled  down 
with  her  hands  on  his  knee.  "How  can  you — at  such  a 
time  as  this?  " 

"How  can  I  write  my  sermon?  Is  the  girl  mad?  What 
do  you  mean,  my  daughter?" 

"I  mean  just  that!  How  can  you  sit  writing  sermons 
when  our  friends  are  going  to  tvar?" 

"But,  my  dear,  is  not  such  a  moment  the  very  time 
when  our  thoughts  should  turn  to  the  God  of  battles?" 

"Oh,  father!  don't  un-iie  znd  talk.'   Do,  do  something!" 

"Well,  well,  my  love.  There,  there  now — don't  cry  so. 
Stop,  I  say;  stop  at  once — and  tell  me  what  you  would 
have  me  do." 

"Oh,  put  on  your  hat  and  go  out  like  other  men. 
Oh,  I  wish  I  were  a  man;  I  wouldn't  be  writing,  writ- 
ing on  such  a  day  as  this." 

"Sara,  my  poor  Sally,  I  forgive  you,  and  I  hope  God 
will  forgive  you  for  putting  other  interests  before  His, 
even  in  these  days.     Will  you  pray  to  Him  to  do  so?" 

"Oh,  father,  I  can't  stop  to  pray  now — or  to  argue. 
Was  that  a  ring  at  our  door-bell?  No,  it's  only  the  milk! 
Oh,  he  is  never  coming!  Dear  father,  do  one  thing  for 
your  poor  Sally  now,  won't  you?" 


HOW  THE   CAPTAIN  CAME   TO  BE    CAPTAIN.  1 9 

"What  is  it,  daughter?" 

"Just  go  to  wherever  Mr.  Fargeon  is  and  offer  to  do 
whatever  he  is  doing,  so  he  can  come  and  see  me — just  for 
a  few  minutes.   Makeh'im  come! — just  for  a  few  minutes, " 

"There,  there;  get  up,  my  daughter;  I  will  do  as  you 
desire.   My  sermon  I  can — " 

"Now  it's  twelve  o'clock.  Do  you  think  he'll  be  here 
by  half-past?" 

"How  can  I  tell,  dear?" 

"Well,  then,  one  o'clock.  He  must  dine  somewhere, 
why  not  here?  If  he  can't  come  before  one  o'clock  you'll 
come  back  and  tell  me  just  when  he  can  come,  won't 
you,  father?  Promise  rne,  now!  You'll  have  to  come 
home  to  dinner,  j^ou  know." 

The  dear  old  parson  was  a  man  whose  careful  walk,  list- 
ening look,  benevolent  smile  behind  gold-rimmed  glasses, 
cordial  recognition  even  of  persons  he  couldn't  quiie  re- 
member, proclaimed  him  one  of  those  saints  on  earth, 
more  careful  of  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others  than  of 
their  own.  He  gave  his  beloved  first-born  daughter — ap- 
ple of  his  eye — the  required  promise  and  walked  forth, 
as  it  seemed  to  poor  Sally,  with  slower  steps  than  ever. 
She  told  herself  at  once  that  half-past  twelve  was  im- 
possible, but  she  watched  the  clock  as  that  hour  went 
by.  Then  she  tried  to  school  herself  into  expecting  her 
father  instead  of  her  soldier  at  dinner;  but  neither  ap- 
peared at  one,  at  two,  or  at  three — it  is  five  o'clock,  and 
the  pastor's  dinner  has  been  kept  warm  for  him  until  it  is 
almost  dried  up,  when  she  hears  a  quick,  firm  young  step 
on  the  plank  sidewalk.  It  stops  at  the  gate,  it  ascends 
the  porch  and  echoes  through  the  hall;  the  parlor  door 
opens  and  her  father  enters,  alone. 


CHAPTER   II. 


POOR  sally! 


'HERE  is  Mr.   Fargeon?" 

"I'm  just  going    to   tell   5'ou, 
Sally.    Is  my  dinner  saved?    Let 
me  have  it  at   once,  for  I  find   myself 
famishing." 

All  bustled  about  to  do  their  service 
to  the  reverend  head  of  the  house. 
"Father,  now  tell  me — " 
"Yes,  yes,  my  daughter.  Oh,  how 
good  this  tea  tastes!  But  to  resume" 
(talking  with  his  eyes  full  of  fire,  his 
mouth  of  food,  and  his  voice  of  excite- 
ment); "I  found  Capt.  Fargeon  at  head- 
quarters, where  it  had  just  been  de- 
cided what  the  men  were  to  take  along. 
He  was  very  glad  to  see  me  and  said  I  was  the  very  man 
he  needed;  said  I  must  go  out  at  once  and  buy  20  camp 
kettles,  200  tin  coffee-cups,  200  tin  plates,  100  sets  of 
knives,  forks,  and  iron  spoons,  10  axes  with  helves,  10 
balls  of  strong  twine,  100  double  blankets — dear  me, 
what  did  I  do  with  my  list?" 

"Then  what  did  he  say  about  coming  here?" 
"Please    wait,    Sally,   until    I   have   finished,"  he    pro- 
ceeded,   dividing   his   time  with   much   impartiality   be- 

20 


POOR   sally!  21 

tween  eating,  drinking,  and  talking.  Poor  Sara  clasped 
and  unclasped  her  hands  with  trembling  eagerness.  One 
might  observe  that  she  was  a  right-hander — that  the  right 
thumb  was  always  clasped  over  the  left — so  she  was  born 
to  be  ruler  in  her  household;  but  who  can  rule  the 
loquacity  of  excited  self-satisfaction?  As  one  of  his  con- 
gregation once  remarked,  "Brother  Penrose  is  a  very 
fadd  speaker. " 

"Well,  I  started  out,  list  in  hand.  Oh,  what  could  I 
have  done  with  that  list?"  [He  paused  to  probe  a 
myriad  of  pockets  in  vain.]  "Never  mind;  I  went  first  to 
Brother  Bangs.  Said  I,  'Brother  Bangs,  I  want  20  camp 
kettles,  200  tin  coffee-cups,  200  tin  plates — '" 

"Yes,  yes,  father,  we  know  what  you  wanted." 

"' — 100  sets  of  forks,  knives,  and  spoons,  10  axes  with 
helves,  10  balls  of  strong  twine' — where  can  that  list  be? 
I  believe  that  was  all  in  Brother  Bangs'  line." 

"Then  did  you — " 

"One  moment.  Said  Brother  Bangs,  'Brother  Penrose, 
are  those  articles  for  Compan)'  K?'  'They  are  Brother 
Bangs,'  said  I;  'how  much  will  they  come  to  at  whole- 
sale prices?'  Said  he,  'That  is  none  of  your  business, 
Brother  Penrose.'  Said  I,  'Brother  Bangs,  I  never  de- 
parted from  you  empty-handed,  and  I  do  not  intend  to 
do  so  now,  though  I  know  you  are  a  Democrat.'  Said  he, 
'Brother  Penrose,  I  shall  demand  full  value  for  each  of 
those  articles.' " 

"What!  Bangs,  who  goes  to  our  church?"  cried  Mrs. 
Penrose.  "Did  he  speak  so,  knowing  it  was  for  Mr.  Far- 
geon's  company?" 

"He  did,  indeed,  wife,  greatly  to  my  surprise.  But 
mark  what  followed :  He  gave  the  order  to  one  of  his 
clerks,  saying,    'Send  those  things  up  to  headquarters  of 


22  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

Company  K  at  once.'  Then  turning  to  me  he  added, 
'Now,  Brother  Penrose,  you  are  going  to  give  me  full 
value  for  those  things,  as  I  said,  and  that's  just  one 
penful  of  ink,  and  I'll  furnish  the  pen  and  ink.  You 
sign  William  Fargeon'sname  to  that  receipt,  per  Penrose, 
and  the  account  is  square.'" 

A  silence  fell  upon  the  group,  and  some  eyes  filled 
with  grateful  tears.  Just  as  Sara  was  thinking  she  might 
safely  recur  to  the  matter  nearest  her  heart,  her  father 
began  detailing  his  further  experiences. 

"I  wonder  what  I  did  with  that  list."  [Further  frantic 
self-searching,  as  for  some  ubiquitous  but  evasive  insect.] 
"But  to  resume;  everywhere  was  the  same  thing.  'Is  it 
for  the  volunteers?  Then  tell  us  what  they  want — that's 
all  we  ask.'  And  I  walked  those  streets  until  I  had  pro- 
vided every  single  thing  that  was  needed."  He  beamed 
through  his  glasses  on  all  about  him  (still  refreshing  ex- 
hausted nature),  as  if  to  say,  "I  am  a  humble  instrument 
in  the  hands  of  a  wise  Providence  for  the  maintenance  of 
our  Union — but  I  wonder  what  1  could  have  done  with 
my  list !" 

"Father!  Tell  me  this  minute  what  Will  Fargeon 
said  about  coming  to  see  me!  " 

"Why,  daughter — in  good  sooth — I  don't  think  I  said 
a  word  to  him  on  the  subject." 


All  adjourned  to  the  sitting-room  except  the  mother 
and  elder  daughter,  who  cleared  the  table  and  pre- 
pared it  for  tea  and,  as  usual,  friends  dropped  in  and  ad- 
ditional places  had  to  be  set  at  the  hospitably  elastic 
parsonage  board.  At  each  new  arrival  Sara  glanced  anx- 
iously into  the  hall,  but  no  sign  of  Will  Fargeon  glad- 
dened her  eyes.     She  could  hear   his  name  mentioned  in 


POOR  sally!  23 

the  animated  conversation  that  came  from  the  sitting- 
room,  mingled  with  "100  double  blankets"  and  "can't  im- 
agine what  I  have  done  with  my  list." 

Once  she  appeared  at  the  door  and  called  to  her  sis- 
ter, a  glov/ing  and  prett}'  miss,  as  breezy  as  her  elder 
was  calm  and  masterful. 

"Lydia,  see  here  a  moment,  please." 

"Oh,  Sally,  you  needn't  make  any  mystery  about  it. 
What  dish  am  I  not  to  take  any  of  to-night?" 

"The  cold  tongue,  dear,"  she  replied  without  even  a 
smile,  though  all  the  rest  laughed  soheartil}'.  IIow  could 
tliey  laugh  in  the  presence  of  battle,  and  murder,  and 
sudden  death? 

But  at  tea  it  came  out  that  Mr.  Seward  had  said  there 
v/ould  be  no  fighting  to  speak  of.  The  whole  thing  would 
be  over  in  ninety  days.  Then  her  spirits  took  a  sudden 
rebound,  Mr.  Seward  was  such  a  great  man,  and  was 
right  there  in  Washington,  too. 

Yet  Fargeon  did  not  come! 

The  soldier  train  was  to  start  at  eleven,  and  now  the 
wretched  time  approached  when  there  was  nothing  left 
to  do  but  to  go  down  to  the  Central  station  and  mingle 
with  the  noisy,  tumultuous  crowd,  bidding  good-bye  to 
the  departing  regiment.  Thither  they  went  —Sara  and 
her  father. 

"See,  daughter !  Each  man  in  Company  K  has  one  of 
my  blue  blankets  rolled  up  and  tied  with  m}'  strong 
twine,  passed  over  his  right  shoulder  and  under  his  left 
arm,  and  hanging  to  the  strong  twine  are  mj'  plates  and 
coffee-cups.  The  camp  kettles  are  in  the  baggage  car,  I 
suppose — and  the — other  things — that  were  on  the  list." 

Sara  saw  it  all,  but  did  not  see  what  she  came  to  see. 
There  was  the  interminable  line  of  cars,    stretching   the 


24  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

whole  length  of  the  long  gas-lit  station  and  out  into  the 
darkness  beyond — more  than  a  thousand  feet  in  all.  At 
the  cars  marked  "K"  she  saw  some  faces  she  recognized, 
for  many  of  Fargeon's  old  employes  had  enlisted  in  his 
company.  Little  family  groups  formed  about  some  of 
the  men;  women  trying  to  be  brave,  and  volunteers  try- 
ing at  least  to  appear  so.  No  one  could  tell  her  where 
Captain  Fargeon  v/as.  "Probably  at  headquarters,"  said 
they.      "Perhaps  at  our  house,"  thought  she. 

The  happiest  fellows  were  the  young,  the  unattached, 
the  adventurers,  the  laborers,  to  whom  this  meant  food, 
clothing,  pay,  excitement,  a  sight  of  the  world;  the  less 
happy,  those  who  were  better  off,  who  just  now  began 
to  realize  how  sweet  home  life  had  been,  and  what  a 
blessed  state  is  that  of  peace  and  privacy.  The  least 
happy  were  those  who  had  to  "bear  up"  and  tear  themselves 
away  from  clinging  arms,  tears,  kisses— sobs  not  the  less 
agonizing  because  they  were  suppressed. 

How  they  wished  that  the  parting  were  over  and  they 
speeding  along  the  track! 

Eleven  o'clock  approached  and  anguish  was  Sara's 
portion.  She  would  have  liked  to  go  out  and  stand  in 
front  of  the  engine;  for  surely  they  would  not  run  over 
a  poor  forlorn  girl !  But  after  all  no  such  desperate  ex- 
pedient was  called  for.  Just  as  the  station  clock  marked 
eleven  she  (having  forgotten  all  about  the  uniform)  was 
startled  to  see  a  slender  figure  approach,  tall,  erect,  glit- 
tering with  sword,  sash,  shoulder-straps,  and  brass  but- 
tons; the  face  that  looked  out  from  under  the  smart  kepi 
— Fargeon's! 

"Oh,  where  have  you  been?"  she  asked,  smiling  and 
crying  at  once.      "And  why  don't  you  shake  hands?" 

"Getting  the  stuff  into  the  baggage-cars, "  he  answered. 


POOR  sally!  25 

showing  his  gloveless  hands  begrimed  with  toil.  "That 
kept  me  from  looking  for  you  and  prevents  me  now  from 
shaking  hands." 

"Nonsense!  Give  them  to  me!  I  am  proud  to  shake 
them !  " 

He  turned  aside  and  tried  to  beat  off  the  dust  while 
he  said:  "I  was  hurrj'ing  fearfully — and  as  it  turns  out 
needlessly — for  we  shan't  get  off  for  some  time.  Seven 
men  of  Company  C  haven't  got  here  from  Aurora  yet. 
Excuse  me  a  moment;  I  will  go  and  wash  ni}'  hands,  so 
that  I  may  clasp  yours  once  more." 

He  daited  ofl;  and  while  he  was  gone  she  overheard 
Superintendent  Clark,  whom  she  knew,  talking  with 
some  one — probably'  the  captain  of  Company  C. 

"Vou  see,"  said  the  superintendent,  "this  is  a  big  train 
— can't  begin  to  make  time — our  regular  passenger  in  the 
morning  will  pass  it  before  it  gets  to  Cairo.  So  we  will 
start  this  now  and  let  your  men  overtake  you  by  the  reg- 
ular. "     And  the}''  passed  on. 

"Splendid!"  thought  Sara.  "Now  Will  can  do  the 
same — stay  till  morning!  "  And  when  Fargeon  appeared 
she  was  radiant  at  the  thought  and  greeted  him  gayly. 
"Oh,  Will!  Superintendent  Clark  says  the  regular  pas- 
senger train  in  the  morning  will  catch  this  before  it  gets 
to  Cairo.  So  you  can  go  home  with  us  and  start  to- 
morrow! " 

As  the  captain's  face  broke  slowly  into  a  smile,  and 
slowly  but  decidedly  he  shook  his  head  in  regretful  ne- 
gation, the  color  faded  from  her  cheeks  and  the  light 
from  her  eyes.     Said  he: 

"What!  start  out  among  the  laggards?  Let  my  men  go 
without  me?     Not  if  I  know  myself!  " 

Now,  pretty  Miss    Mischief,  what  plot    is   working    in 


26 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 


your  small,  imperious  head,  that  brings  the  color  to  your 
face  and  the  light  to  your  eyes?  You  surely  are  not  con- 
triving a  plan  to  make  your  lover  lose  his  train,  just  to 
give  him  a  chance  to  repeat  all  the  sweet  things  he  has 
ever  said  to  you,  and  you  a  chance  to  take  back  all  tho 
rebuffs  you  have  given  him!  Can  one  so  young,  so  fair, 
be  so  deceiving? 

Alas  that  such  duplicity  should  exist  where  we  least 
look  for  anything  but  transparent  candor!  Let  us  watch. 
The  first  test  point  is:  Will  she  tell  him  that  Mr. 
Clark  said  the  train  should  start  at  once?  She  says 
nothing  about  it.     What  next? 

She  places  herself 
leaning  against  a  bar- 
rier, her  face  turned  to- 
ward the  train,  so  that 
he  must  have  his  back 
to  it  in  talking  to  her. 
Then  her  guns  are  un- 
masked. She  knows 
that  he  thinks  her  the 
prettiest  when  her  hair 
is  pushed  back  from 
her  temples  and  tucked 
behind  her  ears,  so 
back  it  goes.  The  lips 
part  smilingly;  the 
teeth  gleam,  the  dim- 
ple establishes  itself  en  permanence,  the  eyes— but  words 
fail  to  describe  their  fringed  splendor,  their  effulgence, 
their  transparent  frankness,  just  when  they  are  engaged 
in  the    most    heinous  deceit— and  then  the  artful  tongue 


POOR  sally!  27 

opens   fire,  with  a  fusilade  of  nervous,  laughing,  flutter- 
ing, flattering  words. 

"Oh,  woman!  Only  once  deceived,  and  evermore  deceiving." 

Poor  captain!  Ambushed,  surrounded  and  made  pris- 
oner, even  before  he  is  mustered  into  service! 

She  sees  the  train  slowly  start — victory  must  be  hers 
— but  at  this  crowning  moment  her  unaccustomed  role  of 
deceit  becomes  hateful  to  her.  She  cannot  keep  it  up. 
Fargeon  sees  her  face  once  more  paling  suddenly,  her 
e}'es  filled  with  tears,  and  the  corners  of  her  lips  drawn 
downward  like  those  of  a  repentant  child.  She  seizes 
his  hand,  points  toward  the  vacant  track  and  cries: 

"Look!" 

He  is  off  like  a  flash,  running  to  catch  the  lumbering 
train,  tearing  through  the  obstructing  crowd  and  disap- 
pearing as  it  closes  behind  him.  Does  she  hvope  he  will 
succeed?  Or  that  he  will  fail  and  return  to  her  yearn- 
ing eyes? 


CHAPTER  III. 

FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP. 

H,  how  sorry  I  shall  be  if  he  misses  his 
train!  What  will  he  think  of  me? 
And  how  sorry  I  shall  be  if  he  doesn't 
miss  it! — goes  away  and  doesn't  think 
of  me  at  all!  " 

Sally  and  her  father  stemmed  the 
tide  of  humanity  which  slowly  came 
down  the  platform.  Fathers,  mothers, 
sisters,  brothers,  wives,  sweethearts, 
slowly  dispersed  to  their  homes;  each 
home  now,  and  perhaps  forever,  show- 
ing one  vacant  place  at  the  fireside;  each  heart  holding 
one  image  which  can  never  grow  old  or  change,  except 
to  fade  slowly  from  memory  if  the  soldier  comes  back  no 
more. 

When  the  crowd  had  gone,  the  station  grown  empty, 
and  no  Fargeon  appeared,  the  minister  and  his  daughter 
walked  slowly  homeward.  They  were  silent;  or 'if  the 
good  dominie  talked,  Sara  took  no  part,  not  even  that  of 
listener.  She  gradually  concluded  that  it  was  infinitely 
better  that  Will  was  not  with  them.  "Better  away  wish- 
ing he  were  here  than  here  wishing  he  were  away."  She 
had  a  revulsion  of  feeling.  Her  spirits  had  been  low  for 
twenty-four  hours,  and  that  is  about  the  limit  of  sadness 

28 


FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP.  29 

at  her  age.  Her  thoughts  wandered  from  Will  and  caught 
what  her  father  was  saying — the  close  of  some  long 
monologue. 

"Of  the  two  horns  of  the  dilemma,  we  will  choose  the 
least." 

She  burst  out  laughing. 

"Why,  daughter — what  is  there  to  laugh  at  in  my  view 
of  the  case?" 

"Oh,  father — I  don't  know — I've  been  so  wrought  up 
that  1  laugh  at  nothing,  I  suppose.  It  just  struck  me — 
the  funny  idea — a  dilemma — with  one  horn  larger  than  the 
other — we  taking  the  little  one — leaving  him  a  poor,  lop- 
sided— kind  of  unicorn." 

Her  laughter,  bubbling  up  and  over,  interrupting  her 
speech,  was  so  catching  that  her  father  was  fain  to  for- 
give her  and  join  in  the  fun — such  as  it  was. 

This  untimely,  undignified,  unnatural  hilarity  lasted 
until  after  she  got  home,  and  did  not  pass  without  some 
mild  disapproval — the  only  kind  Sara  had  ever  to    meet. 

Her  mother  (addressing  nobody  in  particular)  remarked 
that  some  persons  would  feel  differently  on  the  departure 
of  such  a  man  on  such  an  errand.  But  some  otJur  persons 
had  always  seemed  to  think  that  they  knew  best  which 
side  their  bread  was  buttered  on  regarding  Mr.  Fargeon. 
This  gave  poor  Sara  a  new  attack — her  bread  buttered  on 
one  side  regarding  Will  Fargeon  and  the  other  side  re- 
garding somebody  else!  So  she  could  only  take  refuge 
in  her  own  room  and  let  joyless  cachinnation  have  its 
way,  followed  by  a  few  tears  after  her  face  was  buried 
in  her  pillow. 


Letters    between    Cairo   and    "home"    were    many   and 
pleasant  during  the  early  weeks   and   months   of  camp- 


30  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

life.  Photographs  sped  to  and  fro  and  made  those  ac- 
quainted who  had  never  met  face  to  face.  Fargeon  told 
his  friends  about  the  absurd  though  natural  blunders  into 
which  the  greenhorns  fell,  and  how  in  all  trouble  Lieut. 
McClintock  was  the  never-failing  resource.  Mac  cup- 
plied  every  deficiency  and  remedied  every  defect;  Mac 
made  rough  places  smooth;  Mac  was  the  captain's  right 
hand,  his  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend.  Mac's  steady 
devotion  to  duty  edified  the  many  who  were  eager  and 
willing  to  do  well.  Mac's  hand  fell  like  iron  on  a  few 
who  were  disposed  to  break  rules. 

Listen  to  Mr.  Penrose,  reading  out  one  of  Captain  Far- 
geon's  letters: 

"Friends,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  is  to  me  to  see 
Mac's  face,  at  early  morning,  at  high  noon,  by  evening 
camp-fire.  No  countenance  my  eyes  ever  rested  upon  has 
given  me  so  much  delight  except  one,"  Mr.  Penrose 
paused  in  his  reading  and  smiled  on  his  hearers. 

"You  see,  my  dears,  Brother  Fargeon  excepts  ofie.  I 
am  gratified  to  note  that  he  does  not  forget  the  j'ears 
through  which  he  and  I  have  fought  in  the  Lord's  war 
side  by  side." 

Sally  did  not  laugh.  She  only  reddened  a  little;  but 
Lydia,  the  irrepressible,  was  not  so  discreet.  She  burst 
out: 

"Ho — ho!  The  idea  of  its  being  _)v?/r  face  he  meant, 
father! " 

"Oh,  Bunny!"  protested  Sally  (Lydia  had  always  been 
called  "Bunny"  and  "Rabbity"  because  of  two  pearly 
teeth  that  showed  below  her  short  upper  lip).  "Dear 
Bunny,  now  please,  please  don't!" 

"No,  Sally;  I  will  not  'don't'  nor  think  of  'don' ting!* 
Father  must  be  told  whose  faceis  dearest  toCapt'n.  Far- 


FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP.  31 

geon.  It's  mine!"  All  laughed  at  this  unexpected  turn, 
and  Lydia  went  on: 

"But  mercy  my!  Who  cares  for  him?  If  it  were  Lieuten- 
ant McClintoch!  Mmmm!  Why,  Captain  Fargeon  him- 
self says  that  the  lieutenant  is  the  finest  man  that  ever 
lived.     I  guess  he  knows." 

Mac  was  the  subject  of  bitter  rivalry  between  Lydia  and 
her  younger  brother,  and  this  dragging  his  name  into  the 
discussion  prevented  the  question  of  "whose  face"  from 
being  settled,  for  those  two  branched  off  into  other  mat- 
ters— whether  Bunny  was  so  might}'  old  as  she  thought 
for,  and  whether  it  had  been  "fair"  for  Bunny  to  shut 
her  m.outh  when  she  had  her  photograph  taken  to  send  to 
camp,  seeing  that  she  never  kept  it  shut  at  any  other 
time— and  so  forth,  until  Mr.  Penrose  put  an  end  to  the 
digression  by  going  on  with  the  letter. 

These  letters  were  all  very  well,  in  their  wa)',  but  far 
as  possible  from  satisfying  to  the  soul  of  the  repentant 
Sara.  Oh,  if  Will  could  only  "read  betVk'een  the  lines" 
of  her  letters  as  she  could  between  the  lines  of  his!  Then 
he  would  know  how  sorry  she  was  for — everything.  Then 
a  sigh,  and  a  hope  it  would  come  out  all  right  before 
long. 


In  camp  reigned  toil  and  drill  and  study  and  heat  and 
impatience  at  what  the  volunteers  thought  was  an  un- 
reasonable delay  in  Setting  them  at  work;  and  permeat- 
ing all,  the  ever-present  homesickness.  Fargeon  would 
have  been  really  an  unhappy  man  if  it  were  not  for  his 
instinctive  effort  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  rank  and 
file.  This,  and  the  comfortable  presence  of  Mac,  kept 
him  cheerful  at  his  task. 

Suddenly,  one  day,  after  the  usual  sun-beaten  drill,  he 


32  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

found  as  he  took  off  his  sword  that  it  persisted  in  rattling 
as  he  hung  it  up;  his  teeth  chattered  in  spite  of  himself; 
his  hands  grew  blue  and  wrinkled  with  cold,  notwith- 
standing the  fierce  heat;  and  his  rude  bed  (a  row  of 
cracker-boxes),  when  he  lay  on  it  covered  with  blankets, 
shook  as  if  it  would  go  to  pieces.  lie  wished  he  could 
get  hold  of  a  huge  anchor  to  hold  things  still,  himself 
and  everything  about  him.  Ague,  of  course!  He  had 
seen  it  in  others;  now  he  could  study  it  to  the  very  best 
advantage,  for,  in  spite  of  the  external  fierceness  of 
both  chill  and  fever,  his  mind  was  strong  and  well  as 
ever,  and  even  his  body  was  slow  to  succumb. 

Small  use  in  studying  it,  however.  He  could  not  see 
through  its  mysterious,  inscrutable  why  and  wherefore. 
It  did  not  last  many  days,  and  when  he  could  call  it 
"broken  up,"  he  yielded  to  the  persuasions  of  the  regi- 
mental surgeon  and  his  brother  officers,  took  leave  of 
absence  and  carried  his  gripsack  into  the  town  of  Cairo. 

He  found  a  room  at  the  St.  Charles  Hotel,  on  the  levee 
— it  was  only  a  six-by-nine  sky-parlor,  but  how  palatial 
it  seemed!  A  locked  door,  a  glazed  window,  plastered 
walls,  a  half-carpeted  floor,  a  furnished  wash-stand,  and, 
luxury  of  luxuries,  a  mattress  bed,  with  a  pillow  and 
bedclothes;  and  (for  the  first  time  in  so  many  weeks)  a 
chance  to  undress  himself  and  get  between  the  sheets 
like  a  Christian. 

He  fairly  reveled  in  the  simple,  plain  little  couch; 
luxuriated  in  it;  explored  all  its  corners  with  his  long- 
hampered  limbs,  and  rolled  his  face  in  the  pillow  like  a 
strayed  child  restored  to  its  mother's  breast.  After 
hours  of  sleep  he  heard  the  dinner  gong  sound,  and  was 
glad  to  hear  it  and  disregard  it  in  the  greater  enjoyment 
of  the  blessed  mattress,  pillow,  and  sheets. 


FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP.  33 

His  rest  and  recuperation  went  on  for  some  da3'S.  The 
noisy,  smoky  bar  and  billiard  room,  full  of  soldiers  drink- 
ing, smoking,  talking,  playing — officers  and  privates  to- 
gether— had  no  attractions  for  him,  but  he  did  much 
letter-writing,  and  there  was  always  the  blessed  bed 
wherein  he  found  refreshment  even  in  lying  awake.  (His 
letters  suppressed  the  fact  of  his  illness.) 

One  morning  he  heard  the  usual  tap  at  his  door,  and 
his  second  lieutenant,  Barney  Morphy,  called  out  to  ask 
how  he  was.      He  sprang  up  and  began  to  dress. 

"Oh,  Barney,  is  that  you?  I'm  all  right  now,  thank 
you,  and  will  go  to  camp  with  you  shortly." 

"By  the  way,  Captain,  here's  a  letter  for  you  that  came 
this  morning." 

The  captain  opened  the  door  and  seized  the  missive, 
and  as  he  read  it  Morphy  saw  a  smile  steal  over  his  face, 
and  a  flush  of  pleasure  over  so  much  of  it  as  the  kepi 
had  preserved  from  a  general  brown  tan  too  deep  to  show 
blushes. 

"Oh,  Barney,  I  beg  pardon.  We've  got  company  com- 
ing. Our  old  friend  Parson  Penrose  will  be  down  to 
preach  to  the  boys  on  Sunday. " 

"Ahem!   Anybody  coming  with  him.  Captain?" 

"Well — yes.      Part  of  his  family  may  be  along." 

"Well,  nov/,  hadn't  you  better  just  keep  your  place 
here?  Not  come  back  to  camp  to  stay  until  they  go  away — 
the  minister  and  the — part  of  the  family?" 

Fargeon's  heart  leaped  at  the  suggestion.  Everj'thing 
seemed  to  favor  it.  Officers  from  every  regiment  in  the 
brigade  had  taken  leave  of  absence  in  order  to  disport 
themselves  at  the  hotel,  some  of  them  in  a  manner  scarce- 
ly creditable  to  the  service.  But  good  sense — or  shall 
3 


34  1"HE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

we  call  it  lover's  instinct? — prevailed,  and  he  put  aside 
the  temptation. 

"What!"  he  thought;  "let  Sara  find  me  once  more  a 
civilian,  staying  at  a  hotel,  idle  and  unsoldierly,  wearing 
a  uniform  as  a  cow  might  wear  a  saddle,  while  a  better 
man  is  commanding  my  compan}'?     Well — hardly." 

So  he  got  back  to  his  quarters  in  fine  spirits,  and 
even  entered  his  tent  with  something  like  a  home-com- 
ing feeling. 

Was  he  walking  on  earth  or  on  air?  Within  twelve 
hours  he  should  see  her  !  He  pushed  his  eyelids  to  see 
if  he  was  awake  or  only  having  another  of  those 
dreams.     He  was  awake. 


And  the  lovely  Sara  on  her  way  to  the  meeting  from 
which  she  hoped  so  much!  How  her  ej'^es  shone  as  she 
looked  out  -of  the  car  window  on  the  great,  grassy,  sun- 
lit, blue-gentian-spangled  Grand  Prairie!  How  the  lids 
dropped  when  she  recalled  her  gaze  and  found  her  face 
the  cynosure  of  masculine  eyes  all  unused  to  such  visions! 
How  she  beamed  with  innocent  triumph  and  with  the 
happy  anticipation  of  meeting — all  her  friends  of  the 
Sixth!  Yes;  decidedly,  she  had  never  been  so  happy  in 
all  her  life. 

"Why,  father,  these  men  all  have  '39'  on  their 
caps!  Is  it  possible  that  thirty-eight  other  train-loads 
like  this  have  gone  out  before?" 

"Yes,  daughter,  thirty-nine  with  this,  from  Illinois 
alone." 

"I  wonder  where  all  the  men  come  from!" 

"So  do  I.  I've  been  wondering  at  it  for  a  long  time. 
But  I  fancy  that  the  men  of  fighting  age  must  be  about 
all  gone  now." 


FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP.  35 

What  would  the  good  dominie  have  thought  if  he  had 
known  that  the  stream  would  flow  on  until  175  such  reg- 
iments should  have  been  furnished  by  this  young  state 
alone? 

One  man  in  the  car,  though  so  placed  that  he  could 
have  looked  at  her  without  rudeness,  never  did  glance  in 
her  direction  in  all  the  long,  long  day's  ride.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  seemed  to  avoid  her  eyes,  and  once,  at  least, 
she  fancied  that  he  held  his  cap  beside  his  averted  face 
on  purpose  to  escape  being  seen  by  her.  As  he  so  held  it, 
she  saw  above  the  visor  the  magic  figure  6. 

So  here,  among  the  thousand  and  forty-five  of  the 
Thirty-ninth,  was  a  man  of  her  "own"  regiment!  Her 
interest  was  piqued,  and  she  called  her  father's  attention 
to  the  presence  of  a  soldier  who  knew  their  friends  and 
whom  she  would  like  to  talk  with. 

The  minister,  with  the  simple  directness  of  his  kind, 
went  to  the  stranger  and  introduced  himself;  and  the  man 
obediently,  though  reluctantly,  came  forward. 

His  was  a  repulsive  countenance,  marred  with  a  dread- 
ful facial  deformity  which,  because  of  the  lowness  of  the 
sphere  wherein  he  was  born,  had  never  been  treated  to 
remove  or  mitigate  its  ugliness. 

Sally  gave  one  startled  glance  and  then  looked  away, 
unable  to  disguise  her  instinctive  repugnance. 

The  man  spoke  in  a  broad  Irish  brogue,  and  his  pecul- 
iarity interfered  with  his  speech. 

"Yes,  lehdy,  I  know  the  caftain.  Me  nchm's  Marrk 
Looney,  and  I'm  the  caftain's  ordherly.  He's  the  foinest 
gintleman  in  the  sarvice.  He  is — oah  he  is,  he  is." 
[This  in  a  kind  of  hopeless  monotone,  the  closing  words 
nearly  inaudible,  a  tone  that  would  have  been  appropriate 


36  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

to  announce  something  the  speaker  knew  to  be  true  but 
despaired  of  making  the  world  believe.] 

"When  did  you  see  Capt'n.  Fargeon?" 

"A  Winsday,  lehdy.  I  got  three  days'  lave  an'  Vv'int 
uf  to  Chicagy  huntin'  things  for  the  caf tain's  mess.  Meb- 
be  the  caf  tain  was  expectin'  your  lehdyshif." 

"Was  he  quite  well?" 

"Fehth  he  was  not,  lehdy;  no  moar  was  he  bad.  Jest 
a  bit  av  a  chill,  wid  the  harrd  livin'  an'  the  harrd  worrk. 
Ye  may  be  sure  the  caf  tain' 11  be  well  to  resave  your  leh- 
dyshif.     He  will,  oah  he  will,  he  will." 

At  this  Sally's  heart  softened  a  little  toward  the  un- 
couth specimen  of  humanity,  and  she  managed  to  look 
in  his  face,  where  (never  losing  sight  of  the  blemish) 
she  could  see  a  pair  of  sharp,  observant  eyes  that  might 
have  been  almost  attractive  but  for  an  expression  of 
habitual  suspicion  or  shamefacedness.  The  birth  blem- 
ish gave  his  whole  face  a  sinister  look,  and  even  his 
smile  was  a  leer. 

They  got  to  talking  about  the  other  officers. 

"What  makes  Mr.  McClintock  better  than  the  rest?" 

"Well,  lehdy,  he  was    wid  us  in  Mexico," 

"Oh;  you  were  in  the  Mexican  war,  were  you?" 

"I  was,  lehdy,  I  was,  oali  I  was.  I  knew  the  liftin'nt 
there — he  was  ortherly  sargint  of  my  company.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  the  liftin'nt  I  doubt  wud  they  have  left 
me  into  K  company  at-all  at-all." 

"Why — why  not?" 

"Well,  lehdy — "  he  passed  his  hand  lightly  across  his 
eyes)  "fer  raysons  best  known  to  thimsilves." 

They  had  some  further  chat,  and  at  parting  she  gave 
him  her  fair  little  hand  and  a  dimpled  smile  that  belied 


FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP.  37 

the  mixed  feeling  in  her  heart — that  it  would  be  a  relief 
to  have  him  gone  from  her  sight  and  hearing,  and  that 
she  hoped  he  did  not  suspect  it.      [But  he  did.] 


Once  more  Fargeon  finds  himself  in  his  familiar  place 
at  evening  dress-parade.  The  interregnum  had  made 
him  half  forget  how  childish  it  was,  viewed  in  the  light 
of  common  sense. 

"ATTENTION— BATTALION!  Shoulder —ARMS  ! 
Rear  rank  open  order  —  MARCH  !  —  HALT!  Right  — 
DRESS  I  FRONT  !  Guides  —  POSTS!  Present  — 
ARMS!      Sir,  the  parade  is  formed." 

While  one  is  learning  it  he  is  buoyed  up  with  the  no- 
tion that  there  is  some  mighty  hidden  power  and  mean- 
ing in  it,  to  come  out  later.  Then  when  it  becomes  a 
matter  of  dull,  mechanical  routine,  behold!  there  is  noth- 
ing in  it,  except  a  reminder  to  each  of  those  3,000  men 
that  he  is  no  longer  a  human  being,  but  is  turned  into  a 
mere  cog  in  a  machine. 

Before  the  ceremony  was  half  over  Fargeon  saw  and 
recognized  among  the  citizen  on-lookers  the  face  and 
figure  of  his  dear  Lady  Disdain;  that  beloved  vision  that 
had  been  his  daily  thought  and  nightly  dream  for  so 
many  sweet,  hopeless  years. 

As  soon  as  possible  he  turned  Company  K  over  to  Mac, 
joined  the  new-comers,  gave  his  friends  his  greeting  with 
enforced  calmness,  and  explained  to  them  the  mysterious 
doings  before  them.  Then  he  guided  them  to  the  camp, 
Sally's  wonder  and  delight  growing  with  every  word  and 
every  step. 

"Is  this  really  your  tent?  Do  you  really  sleep  on  that 
long,  low,  rocky  mountain?     Oh,  what  craggy  ridges  and 


38  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

chasms!  Why,  there  is  one  precipitous  cliff  right  in  the 
middle!     What  is  that  ledge  for?" 

"Oh,  that's  where  one  under-lying  cracker-box  sticks 
up  higher  than  its  neighbor.  It  just  fits  the  small  of  my 
back.  I  shouldn'  t  know  how  to  enjoy  my  night's  rest  with- 
out that — shouldn't  know  I  was  asleep." 

"And  there's  where  you  hang  up  your  sword.  Oh,  why 
did  you  take  it  off?      It  was  so  becoming!  " 

"It  was  becoming — tiresome.  We  don't  care  to  lug 
them  around  any  more  than  we  have  to." 

"I  should  think  you'd  never  go  without  them.  And 
here's  your  Bible,  I  see — no,  it's  army  regulations.  Well, 
that  is  a  kind  of  Bible  in  these  days.  And  this  is 
the  corresponding  hymn-book — yes,  Hardee's  Tactics. 
'Shoulder  arms!  One  time  and  two  motions!'  What  does 
that  mean?  How  can  there  be  two  motions  of  one  gun 
at  one  time?  Perhaps  the  man  has  two  guns,  one  in 
each  hand.  What  a  splendid  idea!  Every  soldier  ready 
to  kill  two  of  the  enemy!  " 

The  gay  beauty  was  rattling  on,  all  excitement  and 
curiosity,  when  a  message  came  from  Colonel  Puller,  hop- 
ing the  minister  and  his  daughter  would  favor  head- 
quarters with  a  call. 

"Oh,  father!"  she  expostulated,  "must  we  go?  I  don't 
believe  they  want  to  see  me  any  more  than  I  want  to  see 
them." 

"What  do  you  think.   Brother  Fargeon?" 

Moved  by  a  beseeching  glance  from  Sally,  Will  an- 
swered: 

"Well,  I  don't  doubt  but  that  they  wish  to  see  Sara; 
but  we  can't  have  all  we  want  in  this  world." 

"True  enough!"  cried  Sally.  "And  besides,  in  Chicago 
it  is  customary  for  the  gentleman  to  call  on  the  lady  be- 


39 


40  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

fore  he  asks  her  to  call  on  him.  You  go,  father,  and  say 
that  I  am  sick — headache — sunstroke— frost-bite — old  age 
— gout — anything;  only  that  I  can't  come." 

Everybody  might  as  well  agree  with  Sara's  views  first 
as  last.     Her  will  was  strong,  her  won't  stronger. 

When  she  and  Will  were  left  alone  together  my  lady's 
mood  changed;  she  laughed  less  and  less,  and  became 
more  disposed  to  listen  than  to  talk. 

"Oh,  yes;  mamm.a  and  all  of  us  are  very  well,  and  evety- 
thing  goes  on  as  prosperously  as  can  be  expected  when 
our  thoughts  are  far  away.  Now  why  do  you  stand  up 
there  leaning  against  that  pole?  Come,  bring  the  camp- 
stool  and  sit  by  me — there,  between  me  and  the  door,  so 
the  light  won't  shine  in  my  eyes — the  sunlight  I  mean." 
[If  Fargeon  had  been  very  clear-sighted  he  would 
have  seen  that  sunshine  was  not  the  only  light  her  eyes 
loved.] 

"Oh,  yes;  I  am — as  happy  as  I  deserve,  I  suppose," 

"Yes;  the  old  interests  are  still  there,  but — somehow 
— they  haven't  the  old  charm." 

"To  be  sure.  We  are  anxious,  and  we  are  a  little  lone- 
some— at  least  some  of  us." 

"Certainly.  The  soldiers'  sacrifices  are  greater  than 
ours.     That's  one  thing  that  weighs  on  us." 

"Oh,  there's  no  danger  of  our  forgetting  you!  If  we 
tried  we  never  could — for  an  hour!  " 

And  so  on,  little  speeches  and  long  silences.  At  last 
she  broke  down. 


FATHER  AND   SALLY  VISIT  CAMP.  4I 

"Oh,  Will!  Can  it  be  true — that  you  are  a  soldier  and 
going  to  battle?" 

Then  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  bowed  her  head 
on  it  and  cried,  not  even  caring  whether  her  hat  was  on 
straight  or  crooked!  Her  father  returned  and  looked  in 
unobserved,  but  discreetly  walked  on.  [Even  middle- 
aged  clergymen  have  some  sense!] 

Her  heart  sank  lower  and  lower,  and  she  felt  more  and 
more  desolate  as  the  minutes  passed.  Will  soothed  her 
as  well  as  he  could,  patted  her  hand  and  begged  her  not 
to  distress  herself.  Then  observing  that  instead  of  grow- 
ing calmer  she  was  beginning  to  sob  a  little,  he  asked  her 
if  he  should  net  get  her  some  water — or  call  her  father. 
She  recovered  herself  with  an  effort  and  answered,  petu- 
lantl}^,  "No!  Of  course  not!"  withdrew  her  hand  sud- 
denly, arose,  rearranged  her  hat  before  the  little  glass 
hanging  on  the  tent  pole,  smoothed  her  hair,  dropped 
her  veil  and  went  out.  She  took  her  father's  arm  and 
walked  away,  Fargeon  following  awkwardly,  wondering  to 
himself,   "What  have  I  done  now?" 


CHAPTER    IV. 


THE    TOMPION. 


^ALLY  supigested  that  they  visit  the  lieuten- 
ants' tent,  the  luckless  captain  following  in 
silence,  still  asking  himself,   "What  have  I 
I^^T^^*IS^      done  now?" 

At  the  approach  of  the  visitors  the  sol- 
dierly Mac  and  handsome  Barney  Morphy 
hurried  into  their  coats,  laid  aside  their 
pipes,  and  greeted  the  minister  and  his  lovely  daughter 
with  awkward  cordiality,  Sally  responding  with  all  the 
cordiality  and  none  of  the  awkwardness.  For  some  mys- 
terious reason  dear  Lady  Disdain  seemed  bent  on  ignor- 
ing her  older  friend  and  captivating  these  new  ones. 

"No,  don't  stop  smoking!  It  looks  so  comfortable!  I 
am  perfectly  enchanted  with  everything  !  I  used  to  wish 
I  were  a  boy,  so  I  could  play  base-ball.  Now  I  wish  I 
were  a  man,  so  I  could  be  a  soldier!  It  is  so  dreadful 
to  be  afraid,'  as  I  am  always,  and  as  you  never  arel" 

"We  are  as  much  afraid  as  you  are,  only  we  are  more 
afraid  to  show  it,"  said   the    gallant    Morphy. 

"If  you  were  as  much  afraid  as  I  should  be,  you  wouldn't 
have  to  show  it;  it  would  show  itself  in  spite  of  you. 
You'd  tumble  down  dead  and  save  the  enemy  all  the 
trouble — unless  he  happened  to  be  as  much  frightened 
as  you,  and  tumbled  down  dead  at  the  same  time." 

42 


THE    TOMPION.  43 

Everybody  laughed  at  the  picture  of  two  armies  all 
unanimously  dead  with  fear  of  each  other. 

Then  Sara  spoke  of  home. 

"There  isn't  a  heart  left  in  Chicago;  you  soldiers 
brought  them  all  away  in  your  haversacks.  Every  girl  I 
know  wants  me  to  bring  word  what  she  can  do  for  you. 
What  can  they  do?     Don't  say  'nothing.^"' 

"Ask  them  to  follow  your  example,  Miss  Penrose — 
come  down  and  see  us." 

"Oh,  that  v/ould  never  do!  The  St.  Charles  would  look 
like  a  bee-hive  in  swarming-time.  But  really,  one  girl 
did  give  me  something  to  give  you,  Mr.  McClintock,  if  I 
thought,  after  I  got  here,  that  you  wouldn't  laugh  at  it. 
Now  would  you?" 

"Perhaps  I  should,"  answered  the  silent  Mac.  "We 
like  to  laugh  once  in  a  while." 

"Well,  you  may  if  you  like.      Here  it  is." 

She  produced  a  little  rolled-up  thread-and-needle-case. 
It  had  a  phrase  embroidered  on  it,  part  visible  and  the 
rest  concealed  in  the  rolling,  in  a  tantalizing  fashion. 
Mac  took  it  and  read  aloud  in  his  strong  voice,  that 
seemed  to  make  the  little  token  more  delicate  by  con- 
trast: "'When  this  you  see,  remember' — may  I  open  it 
and  see  the  name?" 

"Tell  me  first  whose  name  you  would  like  to  find  there 
— barring  mine?" 

"Your  sister's,  of  course." 

"Oh,  you  bold  man,  to  take  such  a  risk!  Suppose  it 
should  turn  out  to  be  somebody  else's  name!  Well,  you 
may  open  it." 

He  did  so,  and  read  out :  "When  this  you  see,  remem- 
ber to  put  it  back  in  your  pocket." 

They  laughed  again.     "No  one  could  complain  of  lack 


44 


THE   CAPTAIN    OF   COMPANY    K. 


of  laughter   while  Miss  Penrose  is  to  the  fore,"   as  Bar- 
ney expressed  it.     Said  she: 

"After  all,  it   was  my  sister  who  sent  it." 

"Did  she — make  it?" 

"Of  course." 

"With  her  own  hands? 

"Yes;  how  else  could  she  make  it?    With  her  feet?" 

Mac  gazed  at  it  long  and  curiously,  his  hard,  soldierly 
face  softening  as  he  did  so. 

"You  are  not  joking  with  me?" 

"No,   indeed!" 

"Well — will  you  thank  her  for  me?" 

"No.  She  wouldn't  thank  me  for  second-hand  thanks. 
You'll  have  to  write." 

"I  haven't  written  a  letter  to  a  lady  since  I  wrote 
from  Mexico  to  my  mother,  who  died  before  I  got  back." 

"You  can't  begin  that  part  of  your  education  any  too 
soon.     You    will  write,  and  she  will  answer,  and — " 

"Suffer  is  ready,  Caftain." 

There  was  no  mistaking  Mark  Looney's  broken  Irish. 
Sara  recoiled  from  looking  toward  him,  overcame  the  re- 
pugnance and  forced  a  recognizing  smile  and  a  cordial 
word;  and,  after  all,  saw,  by  the  dark,  downcast  look  in 
his  eyes,  that  he  perceived  the  repugnance  and  the  effort. 
She  was  afraid  of  Mark,  and  would  tell  Will  so  sometime 
— when  they  should  be  on  speaking  terms  again.  And  she 
tossed  her  pretty  head  and  went  on  devoting  herself  to 
the  5^ounger  men,  poor  Will  falling  deeper  and  deeper 
into  his  puzzled  gloom. 

"Why,  I  have  been  extremely  careful!  I  haven't  even 
hinted  love  to  her  since  she  came — never,  since  that  walk 
to  the  Wigwam!  " 

They  all  had   supper    together   around    the    camp-fire. 


THE   TOMPION.  45 

Milkless  coffee  was  hard,  and  butterless  crackers  still 
harder;  but  then  the  coffee  softened  the  crackers  and 
the  crackers  took  the  edge  off  the  coffee;  and  the  cold 
ham  was  excellent — if  it  had  only  been  all  lean — and  the 
wood  smoke  was  interesting — in  moderation.  Why  did 
it  persist  in  following  Sally's  face,  no  matter  where  she 
sat?  Well,  in  so  doing  it  was  only  keeping  in  the  fash- 
ion, for  that  was  what  the  eyes  of  all  the  on-lookers 
couldn't  help  doing.  The  officers,  from  colonel  to  second 
lieutenant,  the  attendant  orderlies  (except  MarkLooney), 
the  more  distant  but  observant  rank  and  file,  all  had  but 
one  aim  in  life — to  gaze  at  the  lovely  creature  whenever 
they  could  do  so  without  offense. 

Would  Miss  Penrose  like  to  see  the  manual  of  arms? 

Miss  Penrose  thanks  Mr.  McClintock,  and  would  like,  of 
all  things,  to  see  the  manual  of  arms.  Mac  whistles  for 
a  sergeant  and  whispers  a  few  words,  and  in  a  short  time 
eight  men,  the  models  of  dexterity  in  handling  the  mus- 
ket, stand  in  the  firelight  and  go  through  the  time-hon- 
ored drill  at  the  word  of  command.  Next  they  do  the 
whole  thing  in  perfect  time  and  perfect  silence,  no  word 
of  command  being  given. 

"Let  me  look  at  that  musket  a  minute,"  said  Mac  to 
one  of  the  drillers.  He  took  the  piece,  and  seemed  to  be 
examining  it  awkwardly,  .as  if  he  had  never  seen  one  be- 
fore, while  he  moved  about  enough  to  clear  a  space  be- 
side the  fire.  Then  suddenly  he  started  into  an  exhibi- 
tion of  lightning  gymnastic  tricks  with  the  heavy  piece, 
bayonet,  strap  and  all.  Here,  there,  and  everywhere  it 
flew — above,  below,  in  front,  behind,  whirling  like  a 
catherine-wheel,  first  in  his  lefc  hand,  then  in  his  right, 
then  in  both  so  that  it  formed  a  circling  halo  in  front 
of  him — until,  finall)',  he  tossed  it  high  in  air,  caught  it 


46  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

as  it  fell,  and  came  suddenly  to  "shoulder  arms"*  as  still 
and  rigid  as  a  statue — a  quietly  breathing  one. 

This  striking  performance  was  greeted  with  a  round  of 
applause,  in  which  Sally's  hands  had  more  share  than 
could  have  been  expected  from  their  size  and  consistency. 
But  louder  than  the  hand-clapping  and  hearty  words 
came  a  chorus  of  "heigh!  he-igh!"  from  a  throng  of  excit- 
ed observers  who  had  swarmed  up  from  their  tents  as 
soon  as  the  news  went  out  that  the  veteran  was  showing 
his  accomplishment.  They  had  before  heard  rumors  of 
it,  but  had  never  been  favored  with  an  exhibition.  Even 
now  Mac  seemed  ashamed  of  the  business  and  said: 

"Please  don't  tell — anybody — you  saw  me  doing  such 
monkey-shines, " 


Slowly  and  reluctantly  the  fair  stranger  left  the  camp- 
ground, with  many  a  backward  look;  spell-bound  by  the 
romance  of  the  gleaming  fires,  the  white  tents,  the  deep 
shadows,  the  lines  of  silent,  slow-marching  sentinels,  and 
the  sound — that  monotonous  )'et  varied  hum — that  jomes 
from  the  presence  of  many  men  in  orderly  liberty  and 
busy  leisure. 

They  walked  through  the  shadowy,  balsam-scented 
pine  woods.  She  hung  on  her  father's  arm,  her  heart 
softening  toward  poor,  silent  Will,  and  her  gentle 
soul  pondering  how  she  could  best  make  some  advances 
toward  renewed  cordiality. 

"Oh,  father — I  am  so  warm!  Could  you  conveniently 
carry  my  shawl  for  me?" 

'Yes,  dear — I  can  manage  it  somehow,    though  I  have 


*  "Shoulder  arms"  in  those  days  was  equivalent  to  "Carry  arms"  in  the  present 
manual. 


THE    TOMPION.  47 

my  cane  in  my  other  hand."       [As  if  she  had  not  calcu- 
lated on  that!] 

"Well— perhapsCaptainFargeon  will  oblige  me  with  ]iis 
arm." 

Will  tremblingly  obeyed  her  behest,  and  she  laid  her 
hand  lightly  on  his  coat-sleeve.  She  took  off  her  hat 
and  hung  it  on  her  arm,  so  that  the  evening  air  could 
cool  her  brow. 

"You  don't  smoke.  Will?" 

"No!"  (stoutly).  "I  never  could  see  why  a  man  should 
fall  into  a  vice  merely  because  he    is    away  from  home." 

"What  comfort  the  lieutenants  seem  to  take  in  their 
pipes !" 

"Don't  they!  It's  quite  absurd.  The  instant  they  get 
through  eating,  or  come  off  drill,  or  parade,  or  guard- 
mounting,  out  come  the  pipes." 

They  neared  the  hotel.     It  was 

"Blazing  with  light  and  breathing  with  perfume." 
But  the  light  was  glaring   gas,  and    the  perfume  was  7iot 
the  incense  which    breathed  in  King   Robert's    banquet- 
room. 

"Father,  dear,  shall  I  go  in  and  write  a  letter  for 
mother,  to  go  by  the  morning  train,  or  will  you?" 

"Well,  love,  suppose  we  both  go.  It  is  getting  late, 
and  Capt.  Fargeon  no  doubt  is  longing  to  gel  back  to 
his  canvas  home." 

She  looked  up  in  Fargeon's  eyes,  a  pretty,  bashful, 
smiling  question  in  her  own;  to  which  he  only  answered 
by  pressing  her  hand  to  his  side. 

"Well,  father.  Captain  Fargeon  must  sacrifice  himself 
for  once,  for  my  mind  is  not  quite  prepared  for  the  change 
from  the  quiet  of  camp  to  the  splendor  of  the  St. 
Charles." 


48 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 


The  dominie  left  them,  and  the  matched  but  unmated 
pair  walked  on  along  the  high  levee  to  the  place  over- 
looking the  junction  of  the  mighty  Ohio  with  the  mightier 
Mississippi.  There,  outside  the  point  where  the  embank- 
ment turns  sharply  northward,  was  a  small  bastion,  built 
to  hold  a  huge  cannon,  which  pointed,  sullen  and  silent 
like  a  couchant  lion,  down  the  Mississippi.  Its  traverse 
overlay  the  platform  and  its  muzzle  was  depressed  to- 
ward the  water. 

The  gun  squad  occupied  a  tent  a  little  inland,  but  a 
sentry  paced  back  and  forth  between  the  bastion  and  the 
walk  on  the  levee. 

"Halt!  Who  goes  there?" 
"Friends,"  answered  the  captain. 
"Advance  one  friend  and  give  the  countersign." 
Will  dropped  Sally's  hand,  stepped  forward  and  whis- 
pered the  word  for  the 
day,  "Cherubusco,  "and 
then  Sally  came  up  and 
they  passed  the  sentry 
and  walked  out  beside 
the  big  gun.  It  was 
soft  moonlight;  it  was 
\deep  silence;  it  was 
'sweet  solitude;  her 
hand  was  no  longer  on 
his  arm;  he  could  not 
help  seeing  that  her 
waist  was  within  reach,  unguarded  even  by  a  shawl. 

He  thought  to  himself:  "What  disaster  might  come 
to  me  here,  now,  in  a  second  or  two,  if  I  had  not  had  so 
many  lessons,  so  many  warnings."  She  laid  a  little  white 
hand  on  the  great,  grim  iron  tube.     To  shut  himself  out 


THE   TOMPION.  49 

of  the  way  of  temptation  and  catastrophe  he  stepped 
around  the  gun's  muzzle,  and  so  put  between  them  the 
safe  barrier  of  its  mighty  mass. 

As  he  passed  in  front  of  the  piece  he  drew  out  the 
great  wooden  stopper  and  lifted  it  so  that  she  could  see 
it.     He  told  her  it  was  called  a  tompion. 

"Oh,  that's  a  tompion,  is  it?  I've  often  wondered 
what  a  tompion  was;  now  I  see  it's  what  keeps  a  sol- 
dier's mouth  shut — a  cannon's  I  mean." 

"Yes.     You  see,  it  fits  tight  over  the  muzzle." 

"And  do  all  soldiers  have  them?" 

"All  cannons?  Yes;  if  it  weren't  for  that,  the  rain  and 
snow  would  beat  in. " 

"Naturally!  And  that  would  be  dreadful!  But  of 
course  they  wear  them  all  the  time." 

"Always  except  when  they  are  made  ready  to  load.  If 
it  weren't  for  that,  the  moisture  would  rust  the  muzzle 
and  extend  down  the  throat — why,  what  are  you  laugh- 
ing at?" 

"Oh,  nothing."  [Struggling  with  her  laughter.]  "I 
always  laugh  when  my  feelings  have  been  overwrought." 

"And  have  they  been  to-day?" 

She  nodded;  he  thouglit  of  Mac,  the  great,  irresistible 
lieutenant,  and  sighed  deeply. 

"That  night  after  you  left  Chicago  I  got  laughing  on 
my  way  home  and  laughed  after  I  got  in  the  house,  so 
that  I  had  to  go  to  bed  in  disgrace — charged  with  utter 
heartlessness. " 

"Was  the  charge  just?" 

She  shook  her  head  gently,  in  silence.  Her  arms  rested 
on  the  gun  and  her  clasped  hands  gleamed  in  the  moon- 
light.     [They  had  nothing  else  to  do.] 

"Do  you  know,  Will — Captain  Fargeon,  I  have  an  awful 
4 


50  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

confession  to  make?"  He  shivered  at  what  was  com- 
ing— would  have  turned  pale  if  his  sunburn  had  permit- 
ted. "I  was  tempted  into  a  horrid  thing  that  night.  I 
made  a  plot — you'll  forgive  me,  won't  5'ou?"  [He  smiled 
in  deprecation  of  the  thought  of  blaming  her.  Rhada- 
manthus  himself  could  have  done  no  less,  placed  as 
he  was.]  "Well,  my  plot  was  to  keep  you  from  catching 
your  train!  I  knew  it  was  to  start  at  once,  and  I  did  not 
tell  you — tried  to  engage  your  attention  till  the  train 
should  be  out  of  reach — only  my  naughty  resolution  failed 
me  at  the  last  moment,  and  I  sent  you  away!" 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"Did  you  care  enough  for  me  to  do  that,  Sally?" 

She  replied  with  a  nod  almost  imperceptible.  Over 
the  cannon  he  tried  to  take  her  hands  from  her  e5'es, 
but  she  gently  resisted,  whispering    between  her  wrists: 

"Have  you  forgiven  me?" 

"Yes — if  there  were  anything  to  forgive."  Then  she 
yielded  her  hands. 

He  felt  as  if  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice  where  a 
thoughtless  step  must  bring  ruin.  "I  will  not!  I  will  not! 
I  will  not!"  His  heart-beats  grew  so  fast  and  furious 
that  she  could  feel  them  in  his  hands.  He  is  surely  going 
to  speak — he  does  speak.      He  says: 

"Do  you  think  your  father  will  be  anxious  about  us?" 

Her  face  blazed.  Should  she  let  her  words  blaze,  too? 
No;  one  more  effort  of  impatient  endurance.  She  only 
shook  her  head  and  murmured:  "Not  yet;  oh,  not  yet!" 
Their  eyes  are  fixed  on  each  other's,  and  she  can  only 
think /Wi7  words — those  two  little  meaningless  monosylla- 
bles,  "Not  yet!  " 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE   MUTINY. 


[OT  yet." 

Did  Will  hear  other  words  in 
her  heart,  or  read  them  on  her  quiv- 
ering lips,  or  feel  them  through 
her  hands? 

The  latter,  probably;  just  as  the 
blind  may  learn  what  the  dumb 
would  say,  by  reading  with  the 
fingers  words  expressed  in  the  man- 
ual alphabet.  What  makes  it  prob- 
able that  this  was  the  medium 
through  which  a  bright  inspira- 
tion came  to  his  darkened  soul  is  this;  it  was  through 
Sally's  fingers  that  he  responded.  Having  her  hands 
clasped  in  his,  just  as  he  had  drawn  them  from  her  face, 
he  dared — with  fear  and  trembling — to  lift  the  pink 
finger-tips  to  his  lips. 

The  thin,  frail  barrier  was  breaking,  was  melting,  was 
gone.  Their  faces  inclined  slowly  toward  each  other, 
till  his  lips  touched  her  forehead,  just  where  the  silky 
hair  was  parted.  A  little  life-time  seemed  compressed 
into  that  moment — then  he  murmured: 
"Dear  Sara!  " 
"Dear  Will!  " 

51 


52  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

She  let  him  separate  her  hands  and  lift  them  to  his 
shoulders;  and  then- 
Why,  then,  his  kepi  fell  off  and  rolled  under  the  gun  so 
that  they  could  recover  themselves  with  a  hearty  laugh, 
and  so  that  he  could  make  his  stooping  to  pick  it  up  an 
excuse  to  come  round  to  her  side. 

"Sally — my  only  love — is  it  true?" 

"True,  Will — true  for  life  and  death." 

The  next  words  he  spoke  were  another  whispered 
question: 

"Since  when,  dear? 

"Since  the  Wigwam— where  50U  snubbed  me,  and  left 
me  to  go  home  alone,  and  cry  myself  to  sleep,  and  long 
all  day  to  see  you — and  you  never  camel  "  [A  few  hurt 
tears  would  start.] 

"How  much  precious  time  I  have  lost! " 

"Yes!"  (with  a  reproachful  little  returning  smile). 
"And  I  began  to  think  you  never  would — would — do 
what  you  have  just  mustered  up  courage  to  venture  up- 
on' " 

"I  am  properly  punished  for  cowardice!  Court-mar- 
tialed and  sentenced  to  be — promoted  to  the  seventh 
heaven! " 

Then  a  few  minutes  later: 

"But  sweetest,  you  must  not  forget  that  I  had  weeks, 
months,  and  years  of  defeat  and  disaster  to  recover 
from!  " 

"Don't — iion'' t  crush  me  with  the  memory  of  my  folly!" 

"Folly?  No;  true  woman's  wit!  It  is  better  as  it  is, 
dear.     Nothing  could  be  better  than  this." 

"Well,  if  you  are  contented,  I  surely  cannot  repine; 
though  I  have  been  a  little  rebellious,  since  you  wouldn't 
come  to  me    before    you    left    home    that  dreadful    day, 


THE   MUTINY.  53 

when  I  waited  and  hoped  for  you — and  you  never  came — 
and  you  wouldn't  even  stay  in  Chicago  till  next  day, 
when  I  wanted  you  to  so  much — and  you  looked  so 
beautiful  in  your  uniform — and  to-day,  the  moment  we 
were  alone  there  in  the  tent,  you  wanted  to  call  in 
father! " 


"Halt!      V/ho  goes  there?" 

The  words  came  clear  and  startling  from  the  sentry's 
beat,  and  Will,  crjing,  "There's  your  father,  I'm  half 
certain!  "  dashed  suddenly  from  her  side,  nearly  carrying 
away  her  hat,  and  f^ew  to  the  rescue  of  the  preacher, 
who  he  ki:iew  might  be  in  bodily  peril  from  the  sentry's 
bayonet.  Sally  followed  at  leisure,  and  found  the  three 
men  in  conclave. 

"Is  that  you,  father?" 

"Yes,  my  love.  This  gentleman  with  the  gun  objected 
to  my  following  you,  although  I  explained  fully  our  re- 
lations and  my  peaceful  purpose.  He  desired  me  to  in- 
form him  of  some  word  or  other  which  I  should  have  been 
only  too  glad  to  do  if  he  could  have  intimated  to  me 
what  the  word  was." 

"Well,"  laughed  Fargeon,  "we  need  not  quarrel  with 
the  sentr}',  who,  I  am  glad  to  observe,  knows  his  duty 
and  does  it."  He  saluted  the  man  and  they  walked 
away. 


After  some  wakeful  hours  and  several  "cat-naps"  Sara 
got  up,  slipped  her  dainty  feet  into  her  slippers  and 
wrapped  the  bedspread  about  her  night-dress.  She 
went  to  her  wide-open  window  and  stood  there  a 
long,  long  time,  drinking  in  the  semi-tropical  night,  the 
starry  sky  (the  moon  having  set),  and  the    distant    for- 


54  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K, 

ests  outlined  against  it — all  making  a  peaceful  contrast 
to  her  tumultuous  feelings. 

Even  as  she  looked,  she  saw  the  first  gray  of  dawn 
appear  away  off  up  the  dark,  broad-rolling  Ohio.  As  it 
grew  lighter  she  could  make  out  the  shadowy,  misty 
foliage  of  the  Kentucky  shore  opposite,  and  the  black 
masses  of  the  gun-boats  anchored  in  mid-stream.  All 
was  dim,  silent,  mysterious,  and  thrilling.  The  horizon 
grew  slowly  lighter  and  more  clearly  visible  above  the 
funnels  of  the  steamers  lying  at  the  levee. 

There  is  a  dash  of  red  in  the  water.  The  sun  is  at 
hand.  Now  his  glowing  face  peeps  out,  and  the  red  in 
the  waves  changes  to  a  long  line  of  diamond-white  spark- 
les. Just  as  his  lower  limb  with  a  final  kick  clears  the 
horizon,  a  flash  of  flame  bursts  from  the  port-hole  of  a 
gun-boat — the  sunrise-gun.  The  sharp  report  follows, 
and  after  its  noise  has  quite  ceased,  the  echo  comes 
back  from  the  Kentucky  woods,  a  long,  sullen  roar;  and 
when  this  in  its  turn  has  sunk  to  a  low  murmur,  the 
Missouri  shore,  off  to  the  westward,  tardily  responds 
with  a  new  growl  of  distant  thunder.  Again  and  again, 
some  far-away  point  taking  up  the  burden,  the  great 
sound  reasserts  itself,  and  rolls  and  rebounds  back  and 
forth,  luxuriating  in  the  vast  silence.  It  seems  as  if  the 
last  mutterings  would  never  cease. 

It  was  wonderful!  Oh,  if  Will  could  only  be  with  her 
(if  she  had  more  on),  to  help  her  enjoy  the  sublimity  of 
the  scene!  She  stood  spell-bound  until  the  advancing 
morn  brought  again  the  sordid,  prosaic  beginnings  of 
human  daily  life;  then,  like  a  sensible  girl,  she  tripped 
back  to  bed  and  (the  calm  majesty  of  the  outer  world 
having  dulled  the  turbulence  of  the  inner)  slept  for  hours, 
only  joining  her  father  when  he  was  impatient  for  his 
breakfast.     She  too  was  ready  to  enjoy  the  meal,  though 


THE   MUTINY.  55 

rather  startled  to  find  herself  the  only  woman  pres- 
ent. When  she  got  over  her  shyness  and  looked  about 
her,  she  could  not  help  noticing  that,  at  each  of  the 
little  tables,  the  farther  side  was  the  one  the  men  pre- 
ferred— so  that  they  should  not  have  their  backs  to  her. 
Soldiers  are  so  polite!      [Dimple.] 

Oh,  if  people  only  knew — all  that  she  was  thinking  of ! 
But  no  one  knew.  No  one  ever  could  have  dreamed 
of  such  things,  because  nothing  ever  happened  quite  so 
thrilling! 

Fargeon  soon  appeared,  smiling  and  handsome,  glit- 
tering in  his  best  uniform  and  happiest  glow.  f-Ie  be- 
came the  envy  of  all  beholders  as  he  tucked  Sally's  hand 
under  his  arm  and  they  started  forth;  she  in  exuberant 
spirits,  escaping  the  awkwardness  of  either  talking  about 
last  night  or  being  silent,  by  a  picturesque  description 
of  the  wonders  of  the  scene  at  dawn.  They  descended 
to  the  very  meeting-point  of  the  giant  streams,  and  dipped 
their  fingers  in  each.  Then  they  looked  up  at  the 
great  gun,  and  secretly  clasped  hands  in  ecstatic 
recollection  of  all  that  had  happened  in  its  unconscious 
presence. 

The}'  climbed  the  levee  again,  stopped  a  few  moments 
at  the  hotel,  and  then  with  Mr.  Penrose  strolled  up  the 
Mississippi  side  toward  camp.  The  sun  rose  higher  and 
hotter;  and  higher,  hotter,  and  louder  rose  the  saw-filmg 
rhapsodies  of  the  cicadas,  till  they  seemed  to  grow  fran- 
tic in  a  fierce  rivalry,  away  up  on  the  tall,  pale,  ghostly 
Cottonwood  trees. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  the  Sixth,  in  holiday  attire,  paraded 
in  a  shady  grove  for  divine  service.  The  adjutant  had 
spent  sleepless  hours  in  studying  how  to  form  a  hollow 
square  (Art.  xiv.  Tactics,  p.  229,  Sec.  999),  a  formation 
very  important — for  purposes    of    parade.     For    fighting 


56 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 


service  it  was  probably  never  once  used  during  the  war. 
One  line  (straight  or  crooked)  two  men  deep,  wherein 
every  musket  can  be  pointed  at  the  foe,  is  good  for  all 
fighting  purposes. 

The  square  formed  and  then  brought  to  "parade  rest," 
Mr.  Penrose  preached  them  one  of  his  most  eloquent 
sermons.  How  lovely  the  preacher's  daughter  looked  in 
«fe.      g^ .  f      her  shade  hat  and  her 

^i  \  ^.  ,1      "A     >^  X  il  \^-«mThere  bemg   no  other 

woman  present,  no  one 
but  herself  knew  that 
her  own  deft  hands 
had  made  that  dress 
'originally,  and  had  re- 
■  made  it,  with  toil  and 
-care  (needless) in  pre- 
'paration  for  this  very 
occasion.  She  was  ac- 
customed to  such  la- 
bors, and  felt  paid  for 
■vmany  an  hour  of  cut- 
ting, turning,  piecing, 
trimming,  when  (after 
service)  her  lover  re- 
marked on  the  exquisite  taste  of  her  costume.  Glancing 
down  he  said  fondly: 

"That  is  the  prettiest  outfit  I  ever  saw  in  my  life." 
"What?"      [Dimple.] 
"Why,  your  dress  and  things." 
"Glad  you  like  it!"      [Smile.] 

"Why,  it's  wonderful!  Who  in  the  world  ever  got  it  up 
— invented  it — designed  it — contrived  it,  or  whatever  you 
call  it?  What  dressmaker  has  the  honorcf  your  patronage?  " 


THE    MUTINY.  57 

"Oh — it  was  May  Dover,  as  usual."     She  looked  up  to 
see  if  he  saw  her  little  joke. 

"Miss  May  Dover?     Never  heard  of  her." 
"No,  not  mis-made  over;  7C'e//-made  over,  by  me." 
Then  he  did  see  it,  and  they  laughed  as   if  something 
very  witty  indeed  had  been  said. 

At  camp  they  found  awaiting  them  Mark  Looney,  with 
a  Sunday  dinner  prepared  in  the  highest  style  of  camp 
luxur}^  Fresh  meat!  Canned  fruit!  !  Condensed  milk  !! ! 
Sutler's  pies  !!!  I  It  is  fortunate  Mark  had  not  "made 
off"  any  more  delicacies,  or  where  could  enough  excla- 
mation-points have  been  found?  There  was  positively  no 
drawback  to  their  enjoyment  of  the  feast — for  who  minds 
flies  on  an  occasion  like  that? 


The  visit  is  done.  She  is  gone.  The  sunshine  has 
lost  its  gayety,  the  shade  its  calm  repose,  the  breeze  its 
refreshing  sweetness,  nature  her  charm,  and  duty  its 
satisfaction. 

"I  say,  Mac,  the  tender  passion  must  be  a  big  thing. 
Why  don't  you  go  in  for  the    tender  pash?'" 

"Too  old,  Barney.  You  are  just  the  age  for  the  'ten- 
der pash,'  as  you  call  it?  There's  the  younger  Miss 
Penrose — " 

"Well,  I  don't  know  but  I  will — if  I  can  get  you  killed 
off  first.  No  chance  whilst  you  are  to  the  fore;  but 
just  v/ait  till  our  first  battle  !  If  I  have  any  kind  of  luck, 
you'll  go  dead  and  I' 11  be  left — First  Left.,  I  mane — and 
have  a  clear  field  for  Miss  L.  P." 

"Oh,  you  cannibal!  Want  to  get  me  killed,  wounded, 
and  missing  right  off,  do  you?" 

"Killed,  Mac,  and  killed  dead,  too.  Nothing  short 
o'  that'll  do  me  any  good.  You  might  lose  all  your  arms 
and  legs,  and  then  your  head  and  then  your  bod}',  and  still 


58  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

a  woman — Miss  L.  P.,  for  instance — might  be  mad  in 
love  with  you." 

"Why,  Barney,  how  do  you  happen  to  know  so  much 
about  the   'tender  pash?'" 

"Oh — I'm  an  Irishman." 

"That  settles  it.  Well,  go  in,  Paddy.  -  I  give  you 
leave. " 

"That's  aisy  said — you  knowing  I've  not  the  ghost  of  a 
show." 

Mac  laughed,  and  for  a  long  time  his  face  wore  that 
same  gentle  expression  his  fellow-soldier  had  never  seen 
there  before  that  day. 


"Mac,  why  do  you  keep  your  tent  all  shut  up  these 
hot  nights?" 

"Well,  Captain,  because  I  prefer  it,  on  the  whole,  to 
the  hospital  tent  up  at  Mound  City,  or  the  grave-yard 
close  by  it." 

"Why,  isn't  fresh  air  wholesome?" 

"Worst  thing  a  man  can  have." 

"The  beasts  of  the  field  and  the  fowls  of  the  air  take 
their  air  raw." 

"So  they  do  their  rations,  but  we  can't.  We  need  to 
have  'em  cooked,  both  food  and  air." 

"The  boys  seem  to  take  theirs  raw  for  choice.  Every 
tent-wall  is  rolled  up  to  the  pole.  W^ien  I  go  the  grand 
rounds  I  think  I  am  making  a  field-survey  of  so  many 
acres  of  naked  flesh.      Why  don't  they  all  die?" 

"Well,  sir,  a  good  many  of  them  do.  And  some  that 
don't  die  have  the  ague."  [This  was  a  sly  hit  that  told.] 
"And  then,  perhaps  it's  true  that  the  mosquito-bites 
cure  malaria — or  perhaps  there's  so  much  flesh  that 
there  isn't  enough  malaria  to  go  round." 

"Fresh  air  and  exercise — a  cold  bath  and  a  brisk  run 


THE    MUTINY.  59 

before  breakfast — that's  what  I  was  brought  up  to  think 
we  all  needed  in  our  business." 

"Ya-as,"  drawled  the  lieutenant.  "Maybe — in  the  range 
of  Chicago  and  Boston,  not  Richmond  and  Cairo.  In  this 
infernal  river-bottom  you  want  to  lie  still,  and  breathe 
through  a  sponge." 

"What's  a  good  fighting  weight,  Mac?" 

"All  the  flesh  I  can  get  and  all  I  can  keep." 

"Well,  some  of  our  brother  officers  don't  look  at  things 
your  way.  Capt'n.  Chaff erty  thinks  Company  C's  men  are 
soft  and  over-weight — thinks  175  pounds  is  right  for  a 
six-footer,  and  so  on  down — and  he's  going  to  try  to  train 
them  down  to  his  scale.  Colonel  Puller  agrees  with  his 
theory  and  approves  his  proposed  experiment." 

"I  know  all  about  that  business,  Capt'n.  Fargeon.  A 
good  deal  more  than  you  do,  I  guess." 

"What  do  you  know?" 

"Chaff  is  going  to  have  trouble  with  his  men." 

"Where  and  when?" 

"Right  here  in  camp,  to-morrow." 

"To-morrow?  Why,  good  heavens!  I'm  officer  of  the 
day  to-morrow." 

"Then  he'll  shoulder  off  his  trouble  on  you." 

"What's  he  going  to  do?" 

"Order  out  his  company  with  arms  and  accoutrements, 
overcoats,  knapsacks  and  blankets,  for  a  two-mile  stretch 
on  the  levee  at  double-quick;  then  a  halt  on  the  river 
bank,  so  they  can  go  in  swimming." 

"What  will  the  boys  do?" 

"As  much  as  they  have  a  mind  to,  and  no  more." 

"Company  C  are  good  men,   Mac." 

"Yes,   country  farmers  and  farmers' bo\^s  most  of  them." 

"Maybe  they'll  obey  orders,  live  or  die,"  said  Fargeon, 
v/ith  a  gleam  of  hope. 


60  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

"But  they  won't,"  coolly  answered  the  lieutenant. 

"Then  what?" 

"Then  Chaff  will  call  on  you,  and  you'll  call  out  the 
guard  to  disarm  the  mutineers." 

"Guard?  Company  C  is  as.  big  as  the  guard,  and  armed 
the  same." 

"All  right;  you  can  call  out  the  rest  of  the  regiment,  or 
any  part  of  it.  Call  out  your  own  Company  K,  if  you  like, 
with  me  at  the  head  of  it." 

"Will  you  have  our  boys  load  with  blank  cartridges'" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it  " 

"Won't  you  even  have  them  fire  high  if  they  have  to 
fire?" 

"I'll  fire  ball  cartridges  right  at  their  belt-buckles." 

"Mac!  what  do  you  mean,  when,  after  all,  the  poor  boys 
are  in  the  right  of  it!  " 

"I  mean  business.  To-morrow  is  very  likely  a  test  day 
— a  deciding  point  for  the  whole  future  of  the  Sixth  Illi- 
nois. If  any  man  refuses  to  lay  down  his  arms  when 
ordered,  and  succeeds  in  his  disobedience,  then  good-bye 
Sixth." 

Will  groaned  aloud. 

"Great  Scott!  I  wish  heaven  would  kindly  remove 
Chafferty  to  some  brighter  sphere,  or  that  somebody  else 
had  the  job  of  backing  up  his  foolishness  with  powder 
and  ball — anybody  except  me!" 

"Why,  Captain,  this  is  the  best  luck  you  could  have! 
A  serious  crisis — an  armed  mutiny  to  be  put  down,  by 
tact  or  by  force,  and  you  outranking  for  the  day  every 
officer  in  the  field;  commanding  the  brigade  and  every 
man  in  it.     Why,  it's  better  than  a  battle  for  you!  " 

"All  the  same,  I  wish  you  had  it  to  do  instead  of  me!" 

"It's  all  right  as  it  is.  Less  likelihood  of  bloodshed 
that  if  I  had  all  the  respousibility.     You've  got  the  tact 


THE   MUTINY.  6l 

which  I  haven't  got.  You'll  use  ft  to-morrow,  and  I'll 
stand  close  by  you  with  the  force — you'll  wear  the  glove 
of  velvet,  knowing  that  the  hand  of  iron  is  right  under 
It." 

"Mac,  you're  a  trump!  " 

"Captain,  jou're  the  joker!  '' 


A  sleepless  night  is  much  the  same  everywhere.  A 
monarch  tossing  on  a  bed  of  down — a  fever-stricken  pa- 
tient facing  the  phantoms  of  delirium — a  mother  longing 
for  her  sick  child's  final  release  from  pain — a  condemned 
wretch  trying  to  forget  the  waiting  gallows— a  sentinel 
on  post,  in  darkness,  cold,  and  wet,  and  in  deadly  peril 
from  unseen  foes — a  Chinese  prisoner  sentenced  to  die 
of  wakefulness — what  is  there  to  choose  between  them? 

These  are  some  of  the  thoughts  that  hovered  about  the 
pillow  (so-called;  in  reality  a  pair  of  blanket-wrapped 
boots)  of  the  captain  of  Company  K,  in  the  weary  hours 
preceding  the  day  wherein  he  expected  to  have  the  bitter, 
bloody  task  of  subduing,  by  musketry,  a  mutiny  in  his 
own  regiment — to  shoot  down  good  fellows,  brothers 
in  arms,  who  thought  themselves  in  the  right,  and 
whom  he  considered  to  be  more  sinned  against  than  sin- 
ning! 

He  heard,  in  succession,  all  the  guard  reliefs  in  that 
long  night.  Indeed,  the  only  knowledge  he  had  of  sleep- 
ing at  all  came  from  the  fact  that  he  had  to  be  wakened 
to  make  himself  ready  for  the  task.  Sadly  he  donned 
his  uniform,  bringing  his  sash  not  round  his  waist  as 
usual,  but  over  his  shoulder,  to  indicate  his  temporary 
rank  and  responsibility — detestable  distinction! 

Grim  was  his  effort  at  cool  indifference  as  he  joined 
the  mess  at  breakfast.  He  could  not  even  command  a 
natural  smile  when  Mark  laid  beside  his  plate   an  oddly- 


&2  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

shaped  and  corded  express  package  bearing  his  name;  nor 
did  he  respond  in  the  proper  spirit  to  the  curiosity- 
inspired  hints  of  the  others. 

"Don't  hold  back  from  opening  your  bale  of  goods  on 
our  account,  captain." 

"No,  captain;  we'll  excuse  you!  And,  if  you're  short 
of  time,  I'll  eat  for  you  while  you  unpack   the  parcel." 

"Thank  you,  gentlemen;  but  (examining  the  string)  it 
seems  to  be  tied  in  a  remarkably  hard  knot." 

"Now,  captain,  I  am  a  great  hand  at  untying  knots." 
Fargeon  shook  his  head. 

"The  fact  is,  Morphy, "  said  McClintock,  "I  guess  the 
captain  sees  an  entanglement  in  that  string  that  nobody 
except  him  can  straighten  out." 

Then  the  captain  changed  the  subject  and  began  to  talk 
about  the  trouble  in  Company  C,  which  they  discussed 
long  and  seriously,  the  captain  and  the  first  lieutenant 
taking  divergent  views,  and  Mac  being  much  more  severe 
on  the  men  than  Will  thought  just. 

Fargeon  was  dreadfully  startled  when,  after  a  pause, 
Mac  rose  and  said  with  a  very  grave  look: 

"I  have  finally  decided  on  the  step  I  ought  to  take, 
and  take  at  once.  Orderly,  go  to  my  tent  and  fetch  my 
sword. " 

"What  is  it,  Mac?" 

Mac  shook  his  head  in  silence,  and  when  Mark  brought 
the  sv/ord  he  drew  it  from  its  scabbard  and  sternly  pre- 
sented the  hilt  toward  his  captain. 

"What's  the  matter,  Mac?  You  resign?  I  decline  to 
accept  your  resignation!  Put  up  your  sword  until  we 
talk  it  over." 

"Capt'n.  Fargeon,  I  tender  you  m}'  sword,  and  respect- 
fully but  firmly  insist  on  your  accepting  it." 

"And  las  firmly  decline!    I  would  rather  leave  the  serv- 


THE   MUTINY.  63 

ice  myself!     The  company — the  army  can  not  spare  j^'<?«/" 

The  lieutenant  stood  like  a  statue,  the  sword  still  ex- 
tended. 

"Come,  come,  Mac!  this  is  not  like  you!  You  are  not 
going  to  desert  me  in  this  pinch!  What  did  you  promise 
me  yesterday?  And  how  can  I  maintain  good  order  and 
military  discipline  if  m}^  own  officers  won't  stand  by  me?" 

No  answer.  Morphy  laid  his  hand  anxiously  on  Mac's 
arm,  but  the  latter  shook  him  off. 

"Besides,  Mac,  "added  Fargeon,  "I  still  hope  that  with 
a  proper  display  of  force  we  can  bring  Company  C  to 
reason  without  bloodshed." 

Here  a  twitching  that  had  been  noticeable  in  Mac's 
face  broke  into  a  full-fledged  laugh. 

"Resign  nobody!  Bloodshed  nothing!  I  only  meant 
for  you  to  use  the  sword  to  cut  the  strings  of  that  in- 
fernal machine  !" 

When  the  laughter  had  died  away  Fargeon  said: 

"I'll  forgive  you,  Mac,  if  you  promise  me  one  thing; 
that  is,  that  next  time  you  attack  me  with  your  sword 
you  come  on  with  it  point-foremost.  It  wouldn't  scare 
me  half  as  much." 

Before  they  had  done  breakfast  there  was  a  loud  call 
for  the  officer  of  the  day;  and  Fargeon,  merely  stopping 
to  toss  the  package  on  to  the  cot  in  his  tent,  hurried  off 
to  hold  a  consultation  with  the  colonel  and  the  captain 
(Chafferty)  of  Company  C  regarding  the  threatened  trou- 
ble. It  was  decided  not  to  interfere  until  there  should  be 
an  overt  act  of  disobedience — in  that  case  to  disarm  the 
mutineers  with  such  for.ce  as  might  be  needed  (Company 
K  to  be  called  upon  if  needed) — then  to  punish  them  by 
an  extra  turn  of  "police  duty,"  if  no  more  severe  meas- 
ures should  be  called  for.  ("Police  duty"  means  the 
servile  tasks  of  ditching,  draining,  and  cleaning  camp.) 


64  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

After  morning  parade,  Capt'n.  Chafferty  (instead  of  the 
usual  drill)  had  his  men  don  their  overcoats,  knapsacks, 
and  blankets,  and  start  out  for  a  "training-down",  run  ail 
according  to  programme.  They  obeyed  his  orders  in  sul- 
len silence;  made  the  double-quick  march  along  the  levee, 
the  sun  pouring  down  volumes  of  heat  on  their  heads, 
and  the  dust  rising  in  a  sand-storm  from  their  feet.  They 
threw  themselves  down  on  the  river  bank,  declining,  to 
a  man,  the  proffered  plunge.  Then  they  marched  home 
to  dinner. 

Fargeon,  through  his- glass,  watched  with  compassion 
the  moving  cloud  that  marked  their  run;  but  he  was  im- 
mensely relieved  by  their  apparent  submission.  He  ar- 
rived at  mess  late  for  dinner,  in  high  spirits.  There  he 
observed,  with  a  laugh,  that  some  one  had  taken  the 
trouble  to  bring  the  mysterious  package  from  his  tent 
and  put  it  beside  his  plate. 

"All  our  troubles  being  now  over,  gentlemen,  we  will 
proceed  to  refresh  the  inner  man,  and  then — " 

He  picked  up  the  package  wuth  a  meaning  smile  and 
replaced  it  in  easy  reach. 

Yet  the  dinner  was  far  from  gay;  for  Mac  ate  in  grim 
silence  that  seemed  to  say,  "Over,  are  the)'?  Wait  and 
see."  He  evidently  had  heard  something  that  lay  heavily 
on  his  mind.  And,  to  be  sure,  before  they  left  the  table 
a  written  message  was  brought  to  Fargeon,  which  he 
read,  first  to  himself,  then  aloud: 

"Capt'n.  Chafferty  requests  the  immediate  presence  on 
the  parade-ground  of  the  regimental  guard  to  enforce  dis- 
cipline in  his  command." 

Fargeon  hurried  off.  Mac  put  on  his  sword  and  direct- 
ed Morphy  to  do  likewise,  and  then  gave  his  orders: 

"Fall  in,  Company  K!      Fall  in,  men;   fall  in!" 

The  men  obeyed,    and    were    marched    to    their    usual 


THE    MUTINY.  65 

place  on  the  color-line.  There,  in  full  view  of  Company 
C  and  of  the  relief-guard,  they,  at  the  word  of  command, 
deliberately  loaded  their  muskets  with  ball-cartridge. 

Mac  scanned  his  men  narrowly  as  they  charged  their 
pieces.  His  own  face  was  almost  unchanged  as  he  gave 
the  successive  orders;  perhaps  showing  a  slight  flush 
which  his  men,  in  after  times,  learned  to  recognize  as 
a  battle-glow,  while  his  speech  took  on  a  slow,  cool,  half- 
persuasive  deliberateness — a  "battle  drawl."  [We  shall 
all  know  it  well  a  few  pages  further  on.] 

"Handle — cartridge!    Tear — cartridge!" 

Here  he  paused  and  walked  along  the  front  of  the  line, 
to  see  that  no  man  bit  off  the  wrong  end  of  his  cartridge, 
as  reluctant  members  of  firing  parties  (details  for  military 
executions,  for  instance)  have  been  known  to  do,  re- 
moving the  bullet,  spitting  it  out,  and  loading  only  the 
powder  and  wadding. 

The  men  showed  various  sentiments  in  their  faces. 
Clinton  Thrush  was  crying  quietly — Mac  knew  he  could 
rely  on  him.  Mark  was  unmoved  and  business-like — he, 
too,  could  be  trusted.  Jeff  Cobb,  George  Friend,  and 
Tolliver,  the  marksman,  looked  pale  and  troubled — they 
probably  had  not  made  up  their  minds.  Caleb  Dugong 
was  boastful  and  ferocious — he  would  fail  at  the  pinch. 
Weil,  the  lieutenant  could  calculate  on  from  twelve  to 
twenty  shots,  and  more  if  the  resistance  was  flagrant, 
violent,  and  dangerous,  including  Sn  appeal  by  the  muti- 
neers to  muskets  and  bayonets. 

Here  is  what  had  occurred  in  Chafferty's  command. 
The  men,  tired  as  they  were,  had  been  mustered  after 
dinner  and  marched  out  for  a  continuance  of  their  "train- 
ing down."  No  sooner  were  they  in  column,  and  the 
officers  giving  the  marching-time  with  the  usual  "Left! 
Left!  Left!"  than  the  men  took  up  the  cry  with  a  sten- 
S 


66  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

torian  "Rest!  Rest!  Rest!  Rest!"  that  could  be  heard 
all  over  the  camp.  In  vain  did  the  officers  command, 
'Silence  in  the  ranks!"  When  they  were  halted  they 
were  silent;  when  they  marched  they  shouted.  After 
Chafferty  had  tried  speech-making,  persuasion,  and  threats, 
all  fruitless,  to  preserve  silence  whenever  the  men  were 
started  marching  again,  he  sent  off  for  aid  to  the  officer  of 
the  day,  as  v/e  have  already  seen. 

Fargeon  joined  him  in  front  of  the  recalcitrant  line  of 
men,  standing  with  arms  at  shoulder,  and  the  two  en- 
gaged in  a  whispered  conversation  which  Fargeon  pur- 
posely prolonged  until  he  saw  Company  K  take  its  place 
and  load  muskets.  Then  he  and  Chafferty  turned  to  Com- 
pany C,  and  in  a  voice  loud  enough  for  the  men  to  hear, 
Fargeon  said: 

"Capt'n.  Chafferty,  what  lawful  order  have  your  men  re- 
fused to  obey? " 

"Among  others,  an  order  to  ground  arms." 

"Captain,  you  will  please  repeat  the  order  in  my  hear- 
ing." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


FORWARD   MARCH. 


ROUND  arms!" 

Not  a  man  stirred. 
Fargeon  felt   the  blood    leave  his 
face  and  surge  toward  his  heart  till 
it  seemed  full  to  bursting.    He  turned 
slowly  toward  Company  K,  and,   with 
a  mixture  of  alarm    and   relief,     saw 
Mac  come  running  toward  him.  Was 
he  coming  to  say  that    K    would    not  use    force    against 
their  fellow-soldiers?       He  walked    forward    to  meet  his 
lieutenant. 
"Well,  Mac!" 

"Why,  Captain,  don't  you  see  the  dam'  fool  has  given 
an  order  that  cannot  be  obeyed?  Men  do  not  ground 
arms  from  shoulder  arms!  The  first  command  should  be 
to  order  arms — then  ground  arms!  The  men  are  right  in 
standing  still!  " 

"True  enough,  Mac!  I'll  tell  Chafferty,"  and  he  was 
starting  back  when  Mac  recalled  him. 

"No,  no,  Captain!     Don't  let  him  try  them    any  more 
— just  tell  him  you  will  take    the  command  of    his  com- 
pany.    You  have  the  right." 
Fargeon  took  the  advice. 

"Capt.  Chafferty,  with  your  permission  I  will  take  com- 
mand of  your  company." 

67 


68  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

Both  men  bowed  ceremoniously.  Chafferty  sheathed 
his  sword,  while  Fargeon  drew  his  and  brought  it  to 
his  shoulder. 

"Attention— Company!      ORDER— ARMS  1" 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  in  admirable  time  the 
order  was  obeyed,  each  and  all  the  musket-butts  striking 
the  earth  together. 

"GROUND— ARMS!" 

Every  man  stooped  forward,  advancing  and  bending 
the  left  knee  in  proper  form,  laid  down  his  piece,  bayo- 
net to  the  front;  and  recovered  his  upright  position 
em.pty-handed. 

"By  fours,  right  FACE!  Forward,  file  right  — 
MARCH!" 

He  placed  himself  at  their  head  and  conducted  them 
to  the  quartermaster's  tents.  There  he  called  for  picks 
and  shovels,  and  ordered  every  odd-numbered  man  to 
take  a  pick  and  every  even-numbered  man  a  shovel — 
always  looking  for  the  first  act  of  disobedience.  Not  one 
showed  itself,  nor  even  an  instant's  hesitation.  Next  he 
marched  them  to  the  sinks,  and  set  them  at  the  disa- 
greeable job  of  filling  up  one  and  making  another. 

They  went  to  work  with  alacrity,  even  zeal ! 

Fargeon  walked  up  and  down  behind  these  strange 
"mutineers,"  pondering  much,  and  feeling  his  heart 
warm  toward  them  with  every  blow  they  struck  and 
every  shovelful  they  threw.  At  last  he  halted,  leaning 
on  his  sword,  near  one  who  was  working  somewhat  apart. 
The  fellow  looked  up  pleasantly,  and  Fargeon  met  his 
look  with  a  slight  smile.  This  was  evidently  enough  to 
encourage  the  volunteer  to  relieve  his  mind.  Never 
halting  in  his  work,  he  spoke  (the  dashes  represent  shov- 
elfuls of  earth  thrown  out): 


FORWARD  MARCH.       .  69 

"Say,  Cap, — do  we  fellers — look  like  we  was — muti- 
neers?" 

"You  don't  work  like  it,  anyhow." 

"No,  sir-ree! — Nor  we  ain't! — There  ain't  no  order — 
no  lawful  order — for  anythin'  that  needs  to  be  done — 
that  we  don't  stand — ready  an  willin'  to  doit! — No,  sir- 
ree! — We  come  out  to  fight — an'  to  drill — an'  to  dig — 
an'  we'll  do  it — till  hell  freezes  over! — Yes,  sir-ree! — 
till  the  cows  come  home! — Yew  jest  try  us!"  Here  he 
paused  for  some  sign  of  assent  or  dissent — which  Far- 
geon  dared  not  trust  himself  to  give.  The  soldier,  how- 
ever, took  encouragement  (or  obstinacy)  from  silence, 
and  continued: 

"Wha'  d'yew  s'pose — an'  wha'  dooz  anybody  s'pose — 
we  came  aout  fer? — Fer  thirteen  dollars  a  month? — Not 
by  a  jug-full! — not  by  a  dam'  sight! — Leave  aour  homes 
— an'  aour  farms — an'  aour  folks — fer  bo3^s'  wages  an' 
poor-house  feed! —  *  *  *  *  jvJqI  We  come  t' obey  orders 
— proper  orders — live  er  die — an''  git  back  home — if  we're 
lucky  enough — jest   as  quick  as  Goddlemity'll    let  us — " 

Another  pause;  Fargeon  looking  far  away  and  winking 
and  blinking  rapidly  to  keep  a  troublesome  moisture  out 
of  his  eyes.  His  interlocutor  perhaps  saw  the  expres- 
sion, for  his  next  words  were: 

"Ye  see,  Cap, — it  ain't  every  company — has  got  officers 
— like  Company  K  has. — Them  a  tryin' — t'  make  us — 
ground  arms — from  shoulder!  Chaff  means  well — so  do 
the  lootenants — an'  we're  willin'  to  mind  'em — fer  the 
good  o'  the  service. — But  they  ain't  no  call — t'  try  no 
dam' — fool  notions  on  us — reg' latin'  haow  much — flesh 
we're  to  carry — on  aour  own  legs! — Aour  flesh  an'  blood 
— b' longs  tew  us — till  it  gits  shot  away. — When  they 
try  t'  prescribe — aour  fightin'  weight — they've  bit  off 
more'n  they  kin  chaw — they've  cut  daown — more'n  they 


^0  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

kin  cock  up — afore  rain.  No  sir-ree ! — Not  fer  all  the 
wuthless  Chaff— -that  ever  was  blowed  aout — of  all  the 
fannin' -mills  in  Ellenoy!  " 

Fargeon  turned  away  and  walked  the  length  of  the 
working  line,  and  then  back  again,   saying: 

"There,  men!  Throw  out  what  you've  got  loose,  and 
square  up  the  sides  and  bottom."     When  this  was  done: 

"Fall  in.  Company  K  —  Company  C,  I  mean."  He 
placed  himself  on  their  right,  giving  the  alignment  with 
his  sword. 

"Right — dress!  Front!  By  fours,  right — face!  For- 
ward— march !" 

He  took  them  to  the  place  for  leaving  the  tools;  then 
to  the  field  where  they  had  laid  down  their  arms;  had 
them  resume  them,  marched  them  to  their  place  on  the 
color-line;  sent  for  the  captain,  and  prepared  to  turn 
over  the  command  to  him.  As  he  did  so  he  heard  from 
somewhere  in  the  line: 

"Three  cheers  for — " 

"Silence  in  the  ranks!"  he  shouted;  and  he  was  obeyed. 

After  transferring  the  command  he  went  to  regimental 
headquarters,  and  with  a  very  little  argument  got  an 
order  published  and  posted  limiting  the  hours  of  drill, 
and  the  loads  to  be  placed  on  the  men  in  drilling,  parad- 
ing, and  guard-mounting.  The  "field  and  staff"  were  very 
glad  to  get  out  of  their  dilemma  so  easily. 


"Mac,  would  our  boys  have  fired  on  Company  C  to  kill?" 
"They  wouldn't  have  had  to,  Captain.  If  the  worst  came 
to  the  worst,  all  I  should  have  done  would  be  to  have  K 
cover  them  with  their  muskets  while  the  guard  went  up  and 
disarmed  them.  If  they'd  resisted  the  guard — why,  then, 
of  course — " 


FORWARD  MARCH.  ^l 

"Then  would  our  boys  have  aimed  at  their  brothers  in 
arms?" 

"Some  would  and  some  wouldn't.  I  should  have  seen 
that  all  pieces  were  properly  leveled,  but  some  muzzles 
would  have  been  dropped  when  the  triggers  were  pulled. 
Mark  Looney  would  shoot  to  kill,  because  I  told  him  to. 
Chipstone,  Cobb,  Tolliver,  George  Friend,  the  two 
Thrushes,  and  a  lot  of  others  would  do  the  same,  because 
they  see  the  necessity  of  discipline  at  any  cost." 

"Well,  it's  all  over  now,  thank  God!  And  we  have 
nothing  to  reproach  ourselves  with.  Thanks  to  you,  we 
did  just  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time." 

"Yes;  but  Colonel  Y.  R.  Puller  has  half  spoiled  our  work 
by  a  foolish  speech  he  is  making  to  everybody,  saying 
that  the  boys  ought  to  come  straight  to  him  when  they 
have  anything  to  complain  of  I  I  always  knew  he  was 
a  regular  politician."  [What  contempt  he  threw  into 
that  last  word  !] 

"But  the  boys  must  have  some  appeal  from  wrong 
orders." 

"Yes;  but  it  ought  to  go  up  through  regular  channels, 
as  the  phrase  is;  'Respectfully  forwarded,  approved'  (or 
'disapproved,'  as  the  case  may  be)  by  company,  regi- 
mental, brigade,  and  division  officers,  clear  up  to  the  Pres- 
ident himself,  if  either  party  desire  it." 

How  delightful  were  all  the  duties  of  the  rest  of  the 
day!  Fargeon's  heart  was  so  light  he  could  have  sung 
aloud  at  every  step;  and  even  the  steps  themselves  seemed 
to  be  on  buo3^ant  air.  "Blessed  are  the  peacemakers" 
rang  through  his  heart  unceasingly.  Every  face  he  saw 
was  that  of  a  friend  and  brother.  The  sun  was  softly 
bright,  the  leaves  green,  the  breeze  sweet — in  fact,  life 
was  very  much  as  it    had  been  while  Sara  was    there    to 


72  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

glorify  the  world  with  her  presence.  By  the  way,  there 
was  her  present  still  to  be  unfolded. 

At  the  mess  supper  no  one  had  any  reason  to  be  sad 
or  glum,  and  the  rebound  of  spirits  made  the  occasion 
one  of  great  hilarity.  Before  long  Mac  called  Fargeon's 
attention  to  the  express  package,  which  had  been  again 
brought  out  and  placed  by  his  plate. 

"Ah,  yes,  Mac;  I  thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  it — 
I  might  never  have  thought  of  it  again!"  And  he  took 
it  up,  scanned  it  once  more  with  laboriously  assumed 
indifference,  and  laid  it  down  again. 

Morphy  ventured  a  remark: 

"It's  just  the  right  shape  and  size  for  a  fine  revolv- 
er." 

"Yes,"  put  in  Mac,  "but  it  hasn't  the  weight." 

"We're  having  the  wait,"  said  Morphy. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  strikes  me;  it's  an  infernal  machine, 
sent  down  by  some  rebel  sympathizer  with  murderous  in- 
tent." 

"Yes,  Mac;  the  intent  to  free  the  enemy  from  the  three 
most  valuable  officers  on  our  side;  the  three  they're 
most  afraid  of — the  captain,  you,  and  me!" 

"Well,  we're  ready  to  die.  Captain,  is  there  any- 
thing we  can  do  to  help  you  solve  the  mystery?" 

"Now,  gentlemen,  don't  you  think  it  would  be  better 
that  only  one  of  us  should  perish?  Just  consider  the 
interests  of  the  Union  cause!  I  ought  really  to  return 
to  my  tent  and  open  this  alone." 

"No!"  said  Mac  stoutly.  "Never  shall  it  be  said  that 
I  owed  my  promotion  to  the  heroic  self-sacrifice  of  my 
captain  !" 

"As  for  me,"  said  Morphy,  "the  moment  I  heard  the 
explosion  in  your  tent  I'd  blow  my  brains  out!      Jinethe 


73 


74  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

brass  band,  I  mane,  and  blow  'em  out  through  me  bazoo. 
But  I'll  tell  you  how  we  can  rejuce  the  risk  to  a  mini- 
mum; we'll  all  crouch  down  so  that  only  our  heads  stick 
up  over  the  edge  of  the  table."  [He  suited  the  action 
to  the  word.] 

"Or,  still  better,"  suggested  Fargeon,  "put  our  heads 
down  below  and  let  nothing  but  our  feet   stick   up." 

"Oh,  come!"  cried  Mac,  "let  us  say  our  prayers  and 
die  together.  Die  first  and  say  our  prayers  after- 
wards. " 

'Well,  if  I  had  a  sword  I  should  certainly  proceed  at  once 
to  cut  the  Gordian  knot." 

Instantly  both  lieutenants  sprang  for  their  swords, 
each  striving  to  get  his  blade  into  Will's  hand  before 
the  other.  Both  arrived  together,  and  Will  took  both, 
carefully  tried  the  edge  of  each,  and  asked: 

"Are  you  ready,   gentlemen?" 

"All  ready?"  cried  the  impatient  youths. 

"Well,  then,  here  goes!"  He  cut  the  string  in  one 
place  with  one,  and  waited  for  the  explosion;  next  in 
another  place  with  the  other,  and  so  on  alternately  until 
there  was  not  a  bit  of  it  left  entire.  Still  no  catastrophe. 
Then  with  a  bow  and  a  smile  he  returned  each  sword  to 
its  owner,  and  turning  to  Mark  Looney,  handed  him  the 
package,  and  said: 

"Be  good  enough  to  put  that  in  my  tent  and  not  bring 
it  out  again  until  I  tell  you  to.  Now,  gentlemen,  what 
was  it  we  were  talking  of  before  you  were  so  kind  as  to 
bring  me  your  swords?" 

The  laugh  was  certainly  against  the  lieutenants  now — 
but  not  for  long. 

While  they  were  enjoying  their  first  pipes  after  sup- 
per, chaffing  each  other  on  the  manner  in  which  the 
captain  had    turned    the    laugh  on  them,  lo !  the  captain 


FORWARD    MARCH. 


75 


himself,  puffing  away  at  a  handsome  meerschaum  and 
pretending  to  enjoy  it.  He  would  put  the  stem  between 
his  lips,  fill  his  mouth  with  the  smoke,  remove  the  pipe, 
blow  out  the  smoke  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  then  re- 
peat the  operation — to  the  great  amusement  of  all  be- 
holders. Even  the  imperturbable  Mark  was  red  with  sup- 
pressed laughter — redder  than  usual. 

"Bravo,  Captain!  "  said  Mac.  "You  take  to  it  like  a 
veteran — just  as  I  did  at  nine  years  old.  Morphy,  how 
do  you  think  our  captain  looks  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth?" 

"Well,  Mac,  if  you  ask  me  as  a  friend,  I  must  say  I 
think  he  looks  like  an  angel." 

"I'm  afraid,  boys,  it's  only  the  fallen  angels  who 
smoke — and  don't  need  any  pipes  even  then.  No  !  come 
to  think,  there  is  something  said  in  Holy  Writ  about 
praising  with  pipe  and  tabor." 

"Of  course!  and  tabor  is  Hebrew  for  tobacker!  Might 
have  known  it!"      [Great  laughter.] 

"Well,  now,"  said  Mac,  "if  any  woman — anj'  white 
woman  under  fifty — were  to  send  me  a  pipe  like  that,  I'd 
go  and  get  my  leg  shot  off  so  I  could  get  discharged,  go 
home  and  marry  her,  and  live  on  my  pension — twenty 
dollars  a  month." 

"So  would  I,  Mac,"  said  Barney;  "or  even  if  she  sent 
me  a  needle-case." 

Fargeon  now  sat  down  with  a  rather  listless  air  and 
handed  over  the  pipe  to  be  admired  and  criticised. 

"By  the  way,  Mac,  what  is  it  a  sign  of  when  you  don't 
know — nor  care  much — whether  you  are  holding  your 
head  up  straight  or  letting  it  wobble  around?" 

"Poison,  captain!     Deadly  poison!  " 

"Humph!      And  is  it  generally  fatal?" 

"Always!  A  single  drop  of  pure  nicotine  on  the  tongue 
of  an  elephant  kills  him  in  eighteen  minutes." 


76  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

"And  on  a  man — is  it  slow  or  quick?  How  long  have 
I  to  live?" 

"Middling  quick.  Not  one  man  in  ten — feeling  the  way 
you  look  now — not  one  man  in  ten  lives  to  be  over 
ninety." 

"Ninety!"  groaned  Will. 

"But,  Captain,"  cried  Morph}',  "you  don't  seem  to  be 
very  jubilant  over  the  joke  you  played  on  us  a  while  ago. 
Who's  ahead  now  in  that  affair?  " 

"Gentlemen,"  replied  Fargeon,  with  all  the  sad,  weak, 
bilious  bitterness  of  seasickness,  "you  are  avenged!  I  am 
thinking  how  dreadfully  long  it  will  be  before  I  am  ninety, 
and,  incidentall}'^,  how  much  it  CDuld  probably  cost  me 
to  hire  somebody  else  to  smoke  that  pipe  for  all  those 
fifty  odd  years."  And  he  looked  with  loathing  at  his 
beautiful  meerschaum. 


The  nausea  wore  off,  but  a  nervous,  headachy  feeling 
remained,  which  he  felt  must  be  walked  away  before  sleep 
could  be  hoped  for;  so  he  wandered  through  the  lightened 
darkness  and  busy  idleness  of  evening  in  a  camp  of  vol- 
unteers. 

Every  tent  was  wide  open,  and  all  were  filled  with 
groups  of  half-dressed  men,  variously  engaged,  cluster- 
ing around  candles  held  in  the  necks  of  bottles  or  in 
the  sockets  of  bayonets  sticking  in  the  ground. 

Single  men  were  reading,  or  writing,  or  washing  and 
mending  clothes.  Here  was  one  serving  another  as  hair- 
cutter;  there  a  little  party  talking  war  and  politics. 
Sociable  groups  were  plajang  cards  or  draughts  and  look- 
ing on  at  the  games. 

Will  lingered  longest  at  the  tent  Vv^here  Clinton  Thrush 
—  he  of  the  fine  pale  face  and  natural  musical  voice — 
and  his  brother  Aleck  were  singing  (and  teaching  others 


FORWARD  MARCH. 


77 


to  sing)  a  new  patriotic  song  which  Clinton  had  adapted 
from  an  old  revival  hymn: 


w. 


4*. 


^ 


^^\  r  r  r  rlT-TTT- 


r-JXTTTYfri-it-l^ 


.1  i/yUh^  Smtt^i-^osajtrios    . 


Will  joined  in  the  singing,  and  many  followed  his  ex- 
ample, so  that  the  fine  marching  tune  could  have  been 
heard  far,  far  out  over  the  great  rolling  river.  Then  he 
left  them  and  strayed  on  and  out,  passed  the  line  of 
sentries,  climbed  the  high  Mississippi  levee  and  descend- 
ed its  western  slope  to  the  very  water's  edge,  stooping 
and  dipping  his  fingers  in  to  feel  the  water  passing  from 
right  to  left  in  its  fiow  to  the  southward.  The  stream 
was  so  broad  that  he  could  only  tell  it  had  a  farther  shore  by 


78  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

the  slight  irregularities  in  the  forest  top  outlined  against 
the  starry  sky. 


"Reveille"  (pronounced  revelee)  is  a  wild,  romantic  bu- 
gle sound,  thrilling  to  the  young  soldier.  In  a  large 
camp  the  bugler  at  general  headquarters  wakes  the  echoes 
at  some  appointed  hour  in  the  early  dawn  or  before;  and 
the  buglers  at  other  headquarters,  division,  brigade,  and 
regimental,  take  it  up  in  succession ;  each  repeating 
the  familiar  notes  in  his  own  especial  "k^y.  He  wakes 
the  echoes;  and  he  wakes  thousands  of  tired  sleepers,  un- 
willing to  bid  farewell  to   their  short  repose. 

No  use  to  rebel,  no  use  to  protest,  no  use  even  to 
grumble.  Good-bye,  needful  rest;  good-bye,  forgetful- 
ness  of  toil,  pain,  and  danger;  good-bye,  dear  dreams  of 
home.  Good  morrow  to  hardship.  The  day  has  begun  — 
for  trying  labor;  for  certain  danger;  for  death  to  those 
whom  the  unseen,  unheard  messenger  of  fate  has  selected 
during  the  darkness. 

Fargeon  failed,  for  once,  to  hear  reveille  and  attend 
morning  roll-call,  and  (by  Mac's  orders)  was  allowed  to 
sleep  late.  His  agitating  experience  as  officer  of  the  day, 
queller  of  mutiny,  apprentice  to  tobacco-smoking,  mid- 
night prowler  and  scribbler  on  the  banks  of  the  great 
river,  made  his  morning  nap  a  very  welcome  luxury,  and 
he  was  only  aroused  by  wild,  wandering  cheers,  starting, 
dying  away  and  breaking  out  afresh  all  over  the 
camp. 

Will  sprang  from  his  cot  and  began  his  toilet.  Mac 
poked  his  head  through  the  tent  flap,  and  Will  lifted 
his  glowing  face  from  the  tin  toilet  pail  and  let  the 
water  drip,  drip,  drip  from  hair,  eyebrows,  nose,  and 
beard,  on  the  towel  spread  across  his  hands,  while  Mac 
asked  in  bantering  tones: 


FORWARD  MARCH. 


79 


"Dressing  for  the  theater,  Capt'n.  Fargeon?" 

"Well,  Mac,  not  that  I  know  of." 

"You'd  better;   you've  got  to  go." 

"What  do  you  mean?     What  theater?" 

"Theater  of  war.  The  J.  R.  Graham  takes  the  Sixth, 
the  Aspasia  takes  the  Twelfth,  the  Memphis  takes  the 
Thirty-ninth,  and  the  Ruby  takes  the  battery  and  the 
wagon  train — all  goes, 
bag  and  baggage,  and 
three  days'  cooked  ra- 
tions." 

The  spread  towel 
continued  to  catch  the 
drops  until  there  were 
no  more  to  catch ;  and 
then  Will  buried  his  ''/. 
face  in  it,  hoping  that 
no  perceptible  pallor 
had  intervened,  and 
resolute  that  none' 
should  remain  when 
he  had  done  rubbing. 

So  death  was  at  hand 
at  last!  TO  the  amusement  of  all. 

"Get  there?     Get  where?" 

"Nobody  knows;  but  it  can't  be  to  the  rear.  It  doesn't 
need  steamboats  to  carry  us  there,  being  there  already." 

"When  do  we  start?" 

"Draw  the  rations  now;  cook  and  distribute  'em  as 
soon  as  possible;  dinner  at  noon  and  strike  tents  by  bu- 
gle call  at  one.     We  ought  to  steam  away  by  two." 

"To  the  front?" 

"Of  course.  I  see  two  of  the  gun-boats  are  getting  up 
steam  to  go  along." 


PAGE  75 


8o 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 


The  thought  of  the   gun-boats  was  comforting, 
huge  cannon  carry  so  far! 


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Capiaz^ts  Pt/iyt^(^  aiC  ^ 


CHAPTER  Vn. 


THE    SKIRMISH. 


HERE  was  rivalry  between  regi- 
ments, and  even  companies,  in  the 
matter  of  striking  camp.  The  tent- 
pegs  were  all  loosened,  and,  at  the 
bugle  call,  the  great  canvas  town 
sank  into  nothingness  like  the  base- 
less fabric  of  a  vision.  In  twenty- 
eight  seconds  by  the  watch.  Com- 
pany K's  men  straightened  up  and 
looked  about  them — then  burst  into 
a  cheer  of  exultation,  for  every  one 
of  its  tents  was  down  and  tied  fast 
in  its  ropes,  while  no  other  company 
in  the  brigade  was  within  several  sec- 
onds of  the  goal. 

The  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision, 
when  it  dissolved,  left  a  multitudi- 
nous wrack  behind,  the  comfortable  paraphernalia  which 
volunteers  gather  about  them  wherever  they  encamped 
for  long.  "Pulpits  and  pianofortes"  Mac  called  the  cum- 
brous and  unmilitary  contrivances. 

"Looks   like    the    sack  of   Jerusalem    by    the   Romans, 
doesn't  it,  Mac?" 

"I  guess  so — though  I  wasn't  in  service  at  that  time." 
"What  ought  to  be  done  about   it?" 
6  81 


82 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 


"Load  the  tents  and  the  cooking  utensils  in  the  wagons, 
and  then  muster  the  men  with  arms,  blankets,  knapsacks, 
and  haversacks,  and  march  away." 
"Leave  all  the  rest?" 
"The  whole  kit  and  caboodle!  " 

It  was  but  a  short  walk  to  the  boat,  however,  and  the 
officers  allowed  the  men  to  load  themselves  down,  even 
to  the  floor-boards  of  the  tents  being  carried  by  many  on 
their  backs  under  their  knapsacks  and  belts,  while  their 
hands  and  arms  were  miscellaneously  overloaded. 
"Now  what  do  things  look  like.  Captain?" 

"Well,  Mac,  a  little 
like  the  children  of  Is- 
rael starting  for  the 
Promised  Land,  loaded 
with  what  they  had  bor- 
the  Egyp- 
lans. " 


Mac  chuckled.  "Ya-as. 
Just  so.  It  takes  you 
literary  men  to  state 
things  about  right." 

To  the  infinite  joy  and 
relief    of    the    rank  and 
file,  they  had  got  march- 
ing orders  "at  last."    To 
"dressing  for  the  theater,       these  heroic,  unsoldierly 
CAPTAIN?"     page  79.  volunteers,  three  months 

of  drill  seemed  an  unbearable  affliction;  although  it  is  a 
space  of  time  about  long  enough  to  get  an  old-world 
recruit  through  the  awkward  squad. 

Handling  the  musket  and  bayonet,  marching,  wheeling, 
facing,  ploying,    deploying,     loading,     firing,     charging. 


THE  SKIRMISH.  83 

halting,  dressing,  skirmishing,  saluting,  parading,  for 
days  and  weeks  (not  to  say  years);  all  for  the  single 
purpose  of  bringing  men  into  a  double  line,  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  facing  the  foe;  knowing  enough  (and  not  too 
much)  to  load  and  fire  until  they  fall  in  their  tracks  or 
the  other  fellows  run  away. 

To  such  simple,  mechanical,  dull,  dogged  machine- 
work  has  the  old  art  of  war  come  down.  No  more  "gau- 
dium  certaminis, "  no  more  crossing  of  swords  or  "push  of 
pike,"  no  more  blow  and  ward,  lance,  shield,  battle-ax, 
spear,  chariot-and-horse;  no  more  of  the  exhilarating 
clash  of  personal  contest.  N'othing  left  but  stern,  de- 
fenseless, hopeless  "stand-up-and-take-your-physic" — for- 
tuitous death  by  an  unseen  missile  from  an  unknown 
hand. 

Is  not  the  time  coming  when  the  rank  and  file,  the 
stepping-stones  on  the  road  to  fame,  will  call  a  halt  on 
their  own  account?  When  they  learn  good  sense  they 
will  cry  with  one  voice:  "It  is  enough.  We  will  have 
no  more  of  it. " 

Whenever  it  shall  become  the  rule  that  the  man  who 
causes  a  war  shall  be  its  first  victim,  war  will  be  at  an 
end.  War  flourishes  by  what  Gen.  Scott  wittily  called 
"the  fury  of  the  non-combatants." 

But  to  the  average  American  brutal  battle  is  better 
than  irksome  idleness.  This  found  fresh  expression  when 
the  men  of  the  Sixth  were  clustered  in  groups  on  the 
many  and  spacious  decks  of  the  Graham,  filling  every 
inch  of  space  where  a  human  being  could  sit,  stand,  or 
lie.  The  few  Mexican  war  veterans  laughed  at  the  im- 
patience of  the  new  volunteers.     Said  one: 

"Why,  boys,  wha'  d'ye  mean?  Here  ye've  had  it  all 
yer  own  way.  Plent}^  of  grub,  camp  fixed  up  like  winter 
quarters — couldn't  live    better  at  a    county  almshouse — 


84  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COJ.IPANY    K. 

nothin'  to  do  but  play  checkers  and  draw  pay  for  doin' 
it !  Ye'd  orter  be'n  prayin'  Heaven  night  an'  day  to  have 
the  War  Department  ferget  ye.  Yer  best  luck  would  be 
if  the  card  marked  Sixth  Illinois  was  to  slip  out  of  the 
pack  an'  lay  on  the  floor  under  Uncle  Sam's  chair  till 
the  game  was  played  out." 

"Oh,  shucks!  What  in  thunder  did  we  come  fer  if  they 
didn't  want  us!  Might  have  staid  to  hum  and  'tended 
to  our  little  biz.  'List  for  a  soldier  and  spend  our  time 
diggin'  slippery-ellum  stumps  out  of  a  Cairo  bottom! 
Idle  month  after  month;  two  dozen  gone  to  kingdom 
come,  an'  goin'  on  two  hundred  sick  or  discharged  for 
disability!  " 

"That's  so,  every  time!      It  ain't  right.       If    the  head 
fellers  don't  know  enough  to  git  us  to  work  they'd  better 
resign,  and  we'll  put  in  somebody  that  does." 
"They  want  to  get  a  good  ready." 

"Oh,  shucks!  They're  like  the  boy  that  took  a  run  of 
three  miles  to  jump  over  a  small  hill,  an'  when  he  got 
thar  he  was  so  tired  he  couldn't  jump  over  a  caterpiller 
in  the  road!  " 

The  first  speaker  disdained  to  argue.  He  only  drew 
out  his  pipe,  and,  producing  a  plug  of  tobacco,  proceeded 
to  fill  it. 

"See  that  plug  o'  t'backer?  We'll  call  that  the  Sixth 
Illinois." 

Then  cutting  off  a  bit  he  added: 

"An'  that's  Company  K.  Now  see  what  next."  He 
chipped  the  piece  with  his  knife  and  ground  it  between 
thumb  and  palm  to  small  fragments.  "Now  it's  gettin' 
drilled,  ye  see,  ready  fer  use."  Then  he  poured  it 
carefully  into  the  pipe-bowl.  "Now  it's  loaded  onto 
the  J.  R.  Graham,  goin'  to  the  front."  He  scraped  a 
match    on    his    trouser-leg    and  lighted  the  pipe.      "An' 


THE    SKIRMISH.  85 

now  it's  under  fire  and  wishes  it  wasn't — wishes    it    had 
staid  on  the  farm  where  it  growed." 

Loud  and  long  they  laughed  at  this  graphic  illustration 
of  the  fate  of  the  volunteers,  but  the  very  laughter  showed 
that  they  could  learn  nothing  from  it.      Poor  fellows! 

Another  group  fell  to  discussing  their  compan}' officers. 

"Oh,  Cap  Fargeon  means  well.  Cap's  a  good  feller,  an' 
a  perfect  gentleman,  too,  but  he  won't  never  make  a  sol- 
dier, Cap  won't." 

"No!  He's  be'n  fed  on  spoon-vittles  all  his  life — can't 
never  learn  to  stomach  bull-beef." 

"Thasso!      Takes  Mac  to  do  the  hard  chawin'  !" 

"Gap's  fustrate  for  this  camp-trampin'  an'  book-keepin' 
business — psalm-singin'  an'  moral  suasion — mark  time, 
present  arms,  right  oblique,  tick-iacks,  flubdub  an'  fol- 
derol;  but  whar'll  he  become  to  charge  bay'nets  an'  the 
enemy  in  front?" 

"Boys,"  cried  Caleb  Dugong  (a  "blowhard"  and  favorite 
butt  of  the  quieter  men,  who  saw  through  him),  "would 
5'e  believe  it,  Cap  wanted  us  fellers  t' leave  our  tent- 
boards  behind! " 

"Well,  Cale, "  said  Jeff  Cobb,  ain't  you  got  yourn  behind 
now?" 

"Oh,  shut  up!  He  wanted  us  to  leave  'em  in- camp. 
Said  we  was  a-overloadin'  ourselves  an'  couldn't  stan'  it. 
Now  mine  jest  fits  my  back — kind  o'  holds  me  up.  Blamed 
ef  I  don't  believe  I  kin  march  better  with  it  than  with- 
out it." 

"Say,  Cale,"  persisted  Jeff,  d'ye  know  what  I  advise 
you  to  do?" 

"No;  what?" 

"Why,  whenever  ye  go  into  battle,  carry  that  board 
along  an'  wear  it  jest  where  ye've  got  it  now,  an'  ye  won't 
never  git  wounded." 


86  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

A  general  guffaw  burst  out  at  this  "burn"  on  Caleb, 
which  did  not  tend  to  improve  his  humor.  But  he  was 
brave,  at  least  among  his  friends,  and  not  easily  bluffed. 
He  turned  to  Mark  Looney  as  easy  prey. 

"What  do  you  say,  Looney  Mark?  You  'How  you've 
be'n  to  battles  where  Mac  was  a-fightin — ain"t  Mac  jest 
about  the  right  kind  of  a  peanut  fer  a  fight?" 

"Oah — the  liftin'nt's  all  roight,"  replied  the  discreet 
veteran. 

"Well,  how  do  you  say  Cap  Fargeon'd  pan  out?" 

"The  caftain'd  turrn  as  white  as  a  shayt — " 

"I'll  bet  ye!  " 

"An'  he'd  shiver  an'  shake  fit  to  knock  the  taytH  all 
out  av  his  head — " 

"I  knowd  it !" 

"An'  he'd  shtan'  there,  pale  an'  shakin',  facin'  the 
music,  whilst  most  av  you  red-faced  divvles'd  be  out  o' 
soight  in  the  rayr.      He  wud — oah  yis,  he  wud. " 

This  quaint  expression  of  confidence  in  their  captain 
was  greeted  with  low  laughter  and  other  marks  of  ap- 
proval.    Caleb  tried  to  turn  the  tide. 

"Tell  me  a  brave  man  would  git  pale  an' be  a-tremblin' 
like  that!  Why,  the  wuss  things  git,  the  madder  I  git, 
an'   the  madder  I  git  the  redder  my  face  gits." 

"All  right,  Cale,"  put  in  Chipstone.   "I'll  stand  b5^ye. " 

"  'Course  ye  will!"  said  the  other,  in  a  gratified  tone. 

" 'Druther  stan'  by  you  than  by  Cap  Fargeon. " 

"That's  right,  Chips!  I  oilers  knowd  ye  wuz  a  friend 
of  mine." 

"Well,  it  ain't  that  exactly;  it's  because  I  guess  I'll 
git  to  live  longer." 

Another  general  laugh  at  the  expense  of  the  helpless 
Caleb. 

"I  guess  yew  fellers  must  a'  found  a  ha-ha's  nest  with  a 


87 


88  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

tee-hee's  eggs  in  it.  Well,  laugh  all  yer  a  mine  ter.  I'll 
bet  any  man  five  dollars  ye  won't  never  hear  my  teeth 
a-chatterin'  under  fire! " 

"No,  Caleb;  not  unless  ye're  tied  there." 

"What's  the  use  of  a  scairt  man,  anyhow?  Cap's 
chatterin'  teeth'd  scare  the  other  fellers." 

"Oah,  whilst  his  tayth  wor  a-chatterin',  av  ye  wor  a-list- 
enin' ye'd  hear  em'  chatterin',  'Shteady,  b'yes,  shteady; 
doa'nt  hurry — ye' ve  time  a  plinty— fire  slow  an'  fire  low! 
Shteady!'  That's  the  how  they'd  chatter.  They  wud; 
oah  yis,  they  wud." 

"An'  where' d  you  be  all  the  time,  Looney  Mark?" 
asked  the  angry  bully. 

"Oah — shtan'in'  somewhere' s  thereabouts;  or  layin' 
down  on  me  face  takin'  it  aisy  an'  quiet-like,  through 
havin'   got    through  me  job." 

"An'  the  rest  of  us'd  be  all  runnin'  away,  would  we? 
Is  that  what  ye  say,  ye  dam'  little  split-mouth  Mexican 
Paddy?  If  I  had  such  a  mug  as  yours  I'd  lie  on  it  all  the 
time!  " 

A  shocked  and  angry  silence  fell  upon  the  group  at 
this  brutal  assault.  Some  looked  with  contempt  at  the 
speaker,  some  with  sympathetic  curiosity  at  Mark,  to  see 
what  he  would  do.  He  leaned  forward,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground,  and  covered  his  blemish  with  his 
hand,  while  in  his  disfigured  face  a  look  of  patient  ha- 
bitual endurance  followed  the  discomposure;  a  look 
which  might  be  interpreted,  "I  bide  my  time." 

"Well!"  cried  Clinton  Thrush,  after  a  moment  of 
thought,  "I'd  rather  be  Mark  Looney  than  any  man 
who'd  make  such  a  speech  as  that!  " 

"That's  the  talk!"  added  Chipstone.  "Count  me  in 
there!  " 


THE    SKIRMISH.  89 

"Why,  fellers!  Mark  'llowed  we  was  all  cowards  but 
him ! " 

"He  never  said  no  such  a  thing!  " 

"An'  if  he  had,  what  you  said  would  go  to  prove  it 
was  true,  regarding  one  of  us,  an'  that's  Cale  Dugong. 
It  takes  a  coward  to  make  a  break  like  that!" 

Caleb  was  "squelched" — didn't  open  his  lips  for  an 
hour,  and  was  not  spoken  to  again  for  a  day  or  more. 


Proudly  and  triumphantly,  the  Sixth  disembarked 
when  it  reached  its  destination,  with  all  its  comfortable 
impediments.  Gleefully  it  pitched  its  camp  on  the  low 
bluff  bank.  Stoutly — though  with  some  misgivings — the 
men  look  up  the  march  next  morning,  loaded  down  with 
"pulpits  and  piano-fortes."  Before  they  had  gone  a  mile, 
however,  some  began  to  unburden  themselves;  Tolliver 
remarking:  "I  didn't  enlist  to  be  a  pack-horse  in  Foot, 
Leggit  and  Walker's  line." 

If  Colonel  Puller  had  asked  Mac's  advice,  the  men 
would  have  been  forbidden  to  carry  anything  but  the 
ordinary  load  of  a  marching  soldier — twenty  to  thirty 
pounds  under  the  best  circumstances;  but  no  such  orders 
were  issued,  and  all  Mac  and  Fargeon  could  do  (with- 
out causing  dissatisfaction,  by  putting  restrictions  on 
Company  K  different  from  those  of  other  companies) 
was  to  tell  the  men  the  folly  of  starting  out  with  a  load 
they  would  have  to  drop.  This  advice  was  heeded  to 
some  extent  at  starting,  and  bore  more  fruit  as  the  day 
wore  on,  for  before  noon  there  was  not  a  floor-board  in 
the  company;  and  even  other  burdens  were  greatly  les- 
sened- The  consequence  was  that  at  night  K  reached 
camp  entire,  not  a  man  missing,  after  passing,  during 
the  afternoon,  hundreds  of  exhausted  stragglers  from  the 
leading  companies,  some  of  which  stragglers  never  reached 


go  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

their  destination  until  after  dawn  on  the  following    day. 

Very  creditable  was  this  to  Company  K,  but  perhaps 
not  an  unmixed  blessing,  for  when  the  orders  came  next 
morning  for  the  Sixth  to  deploy  a  company  as  skirmish- 
ers, "to  feel  the  enemy,"  a  very  slight  examination 
showed  that  K  was  the  one  best  fitted  for  the  job,  and  K 
was  designated. 

Fargeon  found  time  to  make  a  few  hasty  preparations 
for  "whatever  might  happen."  He  wrote  a  farewell  note 
to  Sara — "to  be  delivered  if  I  fall" — and  inclosed  it  in  a 
sheet  containing  directions  for  the  disposal  of  his  personal 
effects  and  his  remains.  He  donned  his  oldest  suit,  so 
that  his  best  might  serve  as  a  burial  garb;  and  then 
thought  of  his  own  face,  drawn  and  ghastly,  showing 
through  an  open  coffin-lid  in  front  of  Mr.  Penrose's  pul- 
pit when  the  good  minister  should  say,  in  sad,  sonorous 
tones: 

"Friends  will  now  be  afforded  a  last  look  at  our  depart- 
ed brother.  Pass  up  the  north  aisle,  please,  and  round 
and  out  at  the  south  door,  where  the  line  will  be 
formed." 

As  this  scene  rose  before  his  mind's  e3-e  he  felt  a 
choking  in  his  throat  and  moisture  on  his  cheeks.  It 
was  all  reasonable  enough;  then  why,  in  later  years,  did 
he  laugh  at  himself  with  shame — keep  the  weakness 
secret,  and  never  let  it  be  known  to  a  living  soul  till  now? 

To  "deploy  as  skirmishers"  (as  the  Sixth  had  learned 
the  trick)  is  to  separate  the  men  and  dispose  of  them 
at  intervals  of  six  paces,  keeping  about  a  third  of  them 
massed  in  the  rear  as  a  reserve.  Company  K  had  now 
about  seventy-five  men  for  duty;  therefore,  twenty-five 
being  in  reserve,  the  remaining  fifty  covered  a  front 
of  about  goo  feet  in  extent — about  the  space  occupied  by 
a  resfiment  in  "line  of  battle!  "     To  "advance  as  skirmish- 


THE    SKIRMISH.  gi 

ers"  is  for  every  second  man  to  kneel,  musket  at  "ready," 
while  the  alternate  men  move  forward  about  twenty 
paces,  (keeping  the  line  as  nearly  straight  as  may  be),  and 
kneel  in  their  turn,  while  their  brothers  go  forward  twenty 
paces  in  front  of  them;  and  so  on  until  checked  by  the 
enemy  or  halted  by  command.  [In  retiring,  skirmishers 
keep  the  same  order — half  halting,  face  toward  the  foe, 
while  the  others  get  to  the  rear  of  them.] 

Behold  Company  K  at  length  on  soldierly  duty!  The 
men  flushed  or  paled,  according  to  temperament.  Sweat 
trickled  down  their  chests,  tickling  as  it  flowed.  How 
their  hearts  beat!  How  fast  they  emptied  their  can- 
teens! How  their  hands  trembled!  As  Tolliver  after- 
ward described  his  feelings: 

"I  couldn't  'a'  loaded  my  gun  then  to  save  my  life.  I 
couldn't  'a'  steered  a  catteridge  into  the  muzzle  of  a 
bushel-basket!  " 

It  was  difficult  to  prevent  them  from  firing  whenever 
they  knelt  down,  albeit  there  might  be  no  enemy  within 
three  miles  of  them.  They  had  strict  orders  against  it; 
yet  they  sometimes  fired,  and  when  one  did  so  the  conta- 
gion was  apt  to  spread  along  the  line.  The  first  offender 
felt  the  stinging  weight  of  Mac's  curse;  and  then  Far- 
geon  and  Morphy,  taking  their  cue  from  him,  and  the 
four  sergeants  learning  their  duty,  aided  in  maintaining 
the  needful  discipline. 

Listen  to  Mac,  stalking  leisurely  back  and  forth  and 
drawling  out  in  a  voice  clear  as  a  bell: 

"Chipstone,  don't  get  so  far  to  the  front!  Your  legs 
are  too  long;  try  fifteen  paces.  More  to  the  left,  Clin- 
ton! You're  always  leaning  too  much  to  the  right! 
There!  Steady  boys!  Kneel  down!  Caleb  Dugong, 
don't    let  me    catch    you    cocking  your    piece!     You've 


92  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

Started  the  firing  once — do  it  again,  and  you'll  hear  me  do 
a  gong  you  won't  like." 

Fargeon  listened  to  Mac  with  earnest  attention,  and 
tried  to  go  and  do  likewise.  He  may  make  a  soldier 
after  all !  True,  they  have  not  yet  seen  or  heard  of  a 
rebel.  Well,  when  that  happens  we'll  hope  for  the  best. 
He  thought  to  himself: 

"Now  I  ought  to  be  hoping  to  find  the  enemy;  that's 
what  I'm  here  for.  But  I  don't  hope  it — no — I  hope  I 
shall  not  hear  or  see  one  all  day — or  any  other  day — 
never  while  the  world  stands!  I  wish  there  were  no 
enemy;  no  war;  that  I  were  at  home  where  I  belong. " 
And  a  vision  of  a  domestic  fireside,  a  carpeted  room,  a 
shaded  lamp,  a  well-spread  board,  a  tea-tray  furnished 
with  a  bell  to  call  the  maid,  rose  before  his  mind's  eye, 
and  sweet,  friendly  voices  filled  his  soul.  It  was  a  long- 
forgotten  parental  tea-table,  and  his  widowed  mother  sat 
at  the  head. 

All  vanished.  Here  again  was  the  unfamiliar  forest ;  the 
loaded,  leveled  muskets;  the  enforced  seeking  for  what 
he  feared  to  find. 

Their  advance  had  been  through  a  wood,  rather  thick 
with  underbrush;  now  there  seemed  to  be  a  little  light 
ahead — either  a  clearing  or  low  ground. 

Now  listen  to  Fargeon: 

"Forward,  second  line!  Steady!  Dugong,  I  have  got 
my  eye  on  you!  Double-quick  to  your  places,  bo3^s! 
There — not  too  far — steady — halt  and  kneel  down.  Is 
that  a  clearing  ahead?  Now,  first  line  forward!  Double- 
quick!      Now  down!  " 

Bang! 

"Curse  you,  Dugong — what  do  you  mean?  And  you  a 
corporal!  " 

Had  he  really  said  a  swear-word  for  the  first  time  in 


THE    SKIRMISH.  93 

his  life?  He  hadn't  time  to  make  sure  whether  he  had 
or  not,  for  the  trembling  culprit  spoke, 

"Ca-cap!    I  heard  'em  fire  on  the  left." 

"That's  a  lie!  Not  a  man  fired  till  after  you  did.  Is 
your  piece  loaded?  No?  Here — give  me  your  ramrod! 
now  fire  again  if  you  can!  " 

"Sha-shall  I  go  to  the  rear,  Cap?  I  will,  if  you  say 
so — go  to  the  guard-tent  in  arrest." 

"No,  sir!  Go  on  and  learn  to  behave  yourself ! 
What's  that — -a  fence?  Halt  at  the  fence — pass  the  word 
to  halt    at  the  fence!  " 

"Oh,  Cap!  Gimme  my  ramrod,  and  let  me  load  before 
I  go  up  to  the  fence!      I'll  get  killed,  sure!  " 

"Will  you  behave  yourself?" 

"Oh,  yes,  Cap!  I  won't  fire  till  I  see  a  reb  right  in 
range." 

"Well, take  your  ramrod!  Hello, Mac!   what's  the  news?" 

"Did  you  say  to  halt  at  the  fence.  Captain?" 

"Yes.  Let's  take  a  look.  Here!  what's  the  use  of 
standing  up  like  that?  Get  down  and  let's  take  a  sight. 
Here  seems  to  be  a  field  of  growing  corn  and  woods  be- 
yond.    What  shall  we  do  next?" 

"Skirmish  right  on  across  the  field.  I  gi/ess  we  shall 
find  some  rebs  in  those  woods." 

"How  far  do  you  think  we've  come?" 

"Oh,  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  or  a  little  better." 
[Fargeon  would  have  guessed  two  miles.] 

"No  danger  of  our  getting  out  too  far?  getting  out- 
flanked and  gobbled  up?" 

"No,  I  guess  not.  We  must  take  our  chances.  Can't 
drop  it  this  way." 

"You  think  there  are  rebs  in  those  woods?" 

"Shouldn't  wonder.  We  can  soon  find  out  by  going 
over  there." 


94  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Spoil  the  man's  corn — and  perhaps  he  is  a  Union  man." 

Mac  either  said  "Damn  the  corn,"  or  he  thought  it  so 
hard  that  you  could  hear  him  think. 

Just  here  a  voice  seemed  to  come  from  the  sky. 

"Hi!   I  see  'em.      Men  movin'  in  them  woods." 

It  was  Ben  Town,  who  had  climbed  a  tree,  and  whose 
example  was  soon  followed  by  several  others — so  many, 
in  fact,  that  orders  had  to  be  given  for  all  to  come  down 
except  Ben. 

"Well,  Captain,"  said  Mac,  "will  you  give  us  the  order 
to  advance?      Whenever  you're  ready,  we  are." 

"Why,  Mac,  if  we  go  out  in  the  open  our  men  will  be 
all  exposed  and  sure  to  get  hit." 

"We've  got  to  go  if  we  want  to  find  out  anything." 

"Suppose  we  fire  from  here,  and  see  if  we  can't  draw 
them  out." 

"Oh,  they're  too  sharp  for  that!" 

"Well,  why  not  get  a  section  of  artillery  and  shell  the 
woods?" 

"Why,  Cap'n  Fargeon,  we  can  feel  'em  and  get  done 
with  it  long  before  we  could  get  a  gun  up  here." 

"No,  sir,  never!  I  should  call  that  a  needless  waste  of 
life.  Keep  the  men  quiet  here,  and  I'll  fetch  up  a  gun 
or  two  in  half  an  hour." 

He  started  on  a  run  for  the  camp,  and  halted  to  speak 
to  Lieutenant  Morphy,  commanding  the  reserves — all  of 
which  force  was  fuming  with  impatience  and  curiosity — 
and  reached  headquarters  in  less  than  ten  minutes,  much 
to  his  surprise,  for  he  could  not  get  rid  of  the  feeling 
that  they  had  skirmished  over  many  times  as  much 
ground  as  they  had  really  passed. 

On  reaching  Col.  Puller's  tent  Will  opened  his  mouth 
to  speak,  and  found,  to  his  surprise,  dismay,  horror,  that 
he  could  not  utter  a  syllable!      His  mind  was  clear,  his 


THE    SKIRMISH.  95 

words  were  ready,  but,  miraculous  to  relate,  his  tongue 
"clave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,"  and  the  muscles  of  his 
throat  refused  to  act. 

"Why,  Capt'nFargeon!  Are  you  wounded?  Are  you 
sick?  What  is  the  matter?  Major,  get  the  captain  a 
glass  of  whisky." 

Will  could  only  manage  a  ghastly  grin  and  an  imbecile 
chuckle  as  he  sank  into  a  seat.  The  colonel  poured  some 
whisky  into  a  cup.  Fargeon  took  the  cup  with  per- 
fect composure,  steadily  added  a  quantity  of  water,  and 
drank  the  mixture.  He  put  his  hand  to  his  throat,  found 
all  apparently  in  order,  tried  once  more  to  speak,  and 
succeeded. 

"Excuse  me.  Colonel.  I  suppose  I  ran  too  fast — never 
felt  so  before  in  my  life;   hope  I  never  shall  again." 

Poor  fellow!  Many  another  citizen  soldier  has  felt 
so;  some  as  often  as  they  took  part  in  a  battle;  some 
only  on  their  first  experience. 

He  made  his  report  and  the  suggestion  as  to  the  aid  he 
would  like  to  have  in  the  shape  of  a  cannon  or  two.  The 
colonel,  being  green  like  himself,  thought  it  an  excellent 
suggestion.  [It  takes  some  years  of  war  and  the  loss  of 
many  guns  to  teach  the  lesson  that  artillery  is  a  very 
poor  rcconnoitering  arm.] 

While  the  colonel  went  off  to  brigade  headquarters  to 
ask  for  the  guns,  Fargeon  retired  to  his  tent  for  a 
moment  to  get  some  food.  He  fancied  that  the  light- 
ness of  his  breakfast  might  account  for  his  extraordinary 
temporary  paralysis  of  the  throat.  There  he  saw  Mark 
Looney,  told  him  of  the  experiences  of  the  company 
thus  far,  and  ordered  him  to  help  the  company's  cooks 
fill  two  cracker-boxes  with  food  and  bring  them  to  the 
men  on  the  skirmish  line  as  soon  as  possible. 

"Begorra,  Caftain — that's  the  best  news  I  heard  since 


96  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

me  stef-falher's  funeral!  I  was  afeard  I  was  goin'  to 
be  left  out  here  in  the  coald!      I  was — oah,  I  was!" 

"Why,"  said  Will  to  himself,  "I  believe  he'd  rather 
go  than  stay  here!  " 

"There,"  he  went  on,  as  he  took  his  way  hurriedly  to 
the  front,  "that  shows  I  am  not  frightened.  A  man  in  a 
panic  does  not  have  his  wits  about  him  and  attend  to 
business  like  that.  Why,  I  can  talk  as  well  as  anybody! 
I  can  sing."     And  he  sang  low,  but  clear: 

"I  wonder  why  all  saints  don't  sing." 

"Frightened!  Of  course  I'm  not!  Only  excited. 
Never  felt  better  in  my  life!  My  heart  feels  warm — 
glowing." 

Then,  after  a  few  steps: 

"Great  Scott!  Can  this  be  the  whisky?  Heavens  and 
earth— I  believe  it  is!  Ho-ho!  But  I  don't  care!  So 
this  is  what  the  joy  of  drink  is  like,  is  it?  Contented 
self-conceit!  Well,  there  is  something  rather  pleasant 
about  it — if  it  only  lasted   forever! 

"Ha!  What's  that?  Firing  on  our  line?  Can  Mac 
have  disobeyed  me  and  pushed  forward?  And  the  guns 
just  coming?  Lives  lost  for  nothing!  Oh,  Mac,  I 
didn't  think  it  of  you — I  didn't  think  it  of  )'ou!  My 
poor  boys! 

"God!  How  they  rattle!  Hark!  What's  that?" 
For  he  heard,  far  above  him,  a  long,  sharp  wail,  be- 
ginning high  in  the  scale  and  nearly  overhead;  then 
lower,  lower,  as  it  died  away  in  the  distance  behind 
him.  "W-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-p,"  it  seemed  to  say. 
It  was  the  first  hostile  bullet  he  ever  heard. 

He  walked  on,  but  more  slowly.  He  instinctively 
directed  his  steps  behind  trees  that  stood  near  where  his 
way  led.     Then  a  bullet   passed  him   at  his  own  level — 


THE    SKIRMISH.  97 

"Whip!"  Then  another  that  lodged  in  a  tree — "Hitt!  " 
Then  something  struck  lightly  on  his  kepi — it  was  only 
a  twig  that  had  been  cut  off  by  one  of  the  high-flying 
balls,  but,  at  the  same  instant,  "Spatt!"  a  bullet  struck 
the  ground  at  his  right,  and  he  rushed  up  to  a  tree  in 
front  of  him  and  leaned,  panting,  against  it,  with  both 
hands  on  the  trunk.  It  was  a  white-oak,  and  the  rough 
gray  bark  impressed  on  his  staring  e3'eballs  a  picture  of 
its  long,  pointed,  diamond-shaped  corrugations,  which  he 
never  forgot. 

"Why  am  I  halting  here?  Because  I  cannot  go  on!  It 
is  settled — the  long  doubt  is  over — I  am  a  coward.  My 
poor  boys  are  in  front  of  me;  shame  and  disgrace  are 
behind  rne — are  here  with  me.  Yet  I  cannot  quit  this 
shelter.  God  help  me,  I  cannot!  Oh,  if  I  could  take  a 
bullet  in  my  hand — my  arm — anywhere  but  in  my  face!" 
He  thrust  his  hand  out  as  far  as  he  could  reach,  abso- 
lutely expecting  it  to  be  hit. 

"Oh,  God!  Send  a  bullet  through  my  hand — my  arm! 
Then  I  could  lose  a  limb  and  go  back  home — my  dear 
home — where  I  belong." 

He  brought  back  his  hand  against  the  tree  trunk;  and 
between  his  thumbs  pressed  his  forehead  hard  against 
the  flinty  bark,  and  rolled  it  from  side  to  side,  as  if  to 
get  a  little  bodily  pain  to  assuage  his  mental  agony. 

"How  they  screech  and  scream!  Oh,  my  dear  home! 
I  will  never  marry  Sally.  I  will  tell  her  how  unworthy 
I  am — and  then  bury  my  shame  in  solitude." 

"What's  that?  Who  said  'Come  on,  Ed?'  Why — 
there's  Mark — poor,  simple-hearted  little  Mark — marching 
forward  as  if  on  parade,  with  a  cracker-box  of  provisions 
on  his  shoulder,  and  Ed  Ranny  behind  him!  I  am 
saved.  Thank  God,  they  did  not  see  me !  I  must  get  to 
the  line  before  they  do,  or  die  in  my  tracks." 
7 


gS  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K, 

He  darted  past  the  tree  on  the  side  furthest  from 
Mark,  put  his  head  down  and  ran  like  a  racer  to  the 
front.  The  motion,  the  effort  of  mind  and  body,  gave 
him  new  life.  He  passed  the  place  where  the  reserve 
had  stood,  and  observed  that  they  had  moved  up  to  the 
support  of  their  brothers. 

When  nearly  in  sight  of  the  fence  he  saw — almost 
stepped  on — the  body  of  a  man  lying  on  his  face  behind 
a  log.  The  soldier's  musket  lay  by  his  side;  a  corpor- 
al's chevrons  were  visible  on  his  sleeve;  and  Will 
thought  he  recognized  Dugong's  stalwart  form.  Far- 
geon's  heart  seemed  to  stand  still;  but  his  legs  kept 
moving  and  carried  him  whither  his  soul  impelled.  He 
was  still  afraid;  but  panic-stricken  ("stampeded")  no 
longer.  He  remembered  Mac's  saying:  "The  ball  you 
hear  never  hits  you;  the  ball  that  hits  you,  you  never 
hear; "  and  tried,  with  some  success,  to  gain  comfort 
from  it,  aided  by  the  wonderful  fact  that  he  was  still  alive. 

The  enemy  had  deployed  a  line  of  skirmishers  and 
were  advancing  doggedly  across  the  open,  in  alternate 
steps,  as  has  already  been  described.  Our  boys  were 
crouching  and  firing  through  the  fence,  with  every  advan- 
tage on  their  side.  Some  stood  erect,  firing  coolly  over 
the  top  of  the  rail.  Mac  walked  up  and  down,  talking 
incessantly,  in  his  fighting  drawl: 

"Steady  now,  boys — don't  waste  your  shots.  Aim!  aim 
now;  aim  every  time,  and  aim  low.  Carberry,  you  fired 
almost  before  your  gun  touched  your  shoulder;  might 
just  as  well  have  fired  into  the  river!  There!  bully  for 
you.  Chip!  You  fetched  him!  They  won' t  make  another 
step  forward,  see  if  they  do  !  What  did  I  tell  you?  They 
are  picking  him  up — that  means  they're  going!  Now,  when 
they  get  started,  over  the  fence  and  after  'em!  Now's 
your  time!    Forward!     FORWARD,  COMPANY  K !" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE   FLAG   OF  TRUCE. 


WILD  cheer  rose,  and  Company  K 
swarmed  over  the  barrier,  firing  and 
loading  on  the  run  as  they  went.  Far- 
geon  was  with  them,  running,  shout- 
ing, waving  his  sword,  till  suddenly  he 
saw  one  of  his  men  stumble,  fall  for- 
ward, and  not  get  up  again.  The  man 
next  the  fallen  one  dropped  his  gun 
f/L^^  '  ^^'^  called  to  another  to  do  the  same, 
N>>«  ^  and  the  two,  in  less  time  than  it  takes 

to  tell   it,    had    their  hurt    comrade    raised    up    between 
them. 

"What  are  you  about?"  screamed  McClintock  with  a 
volley  of  curses.  "Drop  that  man,  *  *  *  ^nd  take 
your  guns  again!  " 

"Why,  lieutenant — he's  wounded — his  leg's  broke — 
and  he's  my  brother,  De  Witt  Clinton  Thrush." 

"I  don't  care  if  he's  your  sister!  Drop  him  and  take 
your  gun!  " 

Poor  Aleck  obeyed;  laid  down  his  burden,  tenderly 
kissed  the  pale  face,  rose  with  tears  streaming  from  his 
eyes,  loaded  his  piece,  crying — still  crying,  went  forward 
to  the  firing  line,  and  cried  and  fought,  and  fought  and 
cried,  as  long  as  there  was  any  fighting  to  do.  Country — 
duty — glory?     Yes;    but    turning  your  back    on  an  only 

99 


I  GO  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

brother,   a  heart's  twin,   moaning    in    deep  distress    and 
bleeding  to  death  for  want  of  your  help! 

The  advance  was  tumultuous,  yet  not  rapid,  for  the 
brave  confederates  fought  well.  With  shrieking  bullets, 
scattered  puffs  of  smoke,  and  sharp  reports,  now  soft- 
ened by  distance,  now  near  and  deafening,  the  onward 
surge  of  Company  K  carried  it  some  distance  beyond 
where  poor  Clint  Thrush  lay  moaning.  He  saw  two  of 
his  comrades  hurrying  to  the  rear,  and  called  to  them 
with  all  his  feeble  strength,  for  help;  but  they  paid  no 
attention;    they  were  nursing  wounds  of  their  own. 

Mark  Looney  passed  him  going  toward  the  fray,  and 
Clinton  begged  piteously  to  be  carried  back. 

"Arrah,  me  bye;  tehk  me  canteen  an'  gimme  yer  gun 
an'  yer  cathridge-box!  I'll  jest  give  them  divvies  wan 
or  two  blessin's  in  yer  oan  name;  an'  thin  I'll  come  back 
an'  carry  ye  in  like  a  lehdy  a-ridin'  in  a  coach  an'  four." 
And  he  too  was  gone. 

An  officer  from  brigade  headquarters  came  to  the  fence 
and  shouted  for  Captain  Fargeon.  Nobody  paid  any  atten- 
tion to  him,  so  he  was  forced,  against  his  will,  to  come 
on  into  the  melee,  making  a  detour  to  avoid  running 
over  Clinton. 

"Captain,  I  have  orders  from  Gen.  Peterkin  that  you 
are  to  halt  as  soon  as  you  have  developed  the  enemy's 
position,  and  retire  at  your  discretion." 

Fargeon  called  McClintock  to  him  and  communicated 
the  message.     Said  Mac: 

"Well,  that  means  now.  They  are  firing  strongly 
from  the  woods;  only,  their  own  men  being  between 
them  and  us,  they  are  forced  to  fire  high." 

"Very  well,  sir.     You  have  the  general's  orders." 
And  the  relieved  aide  darted    for    the    rear.      Mac  went 
one  way  and  Fargeon  the  other,  shouting,  "Back!  back!  " 


THE  FLAG  OF  TRUCE.  lOI 

and  motioning  toward  the  fence;  and  the  excited  men 
reluctantly  began  their  retreat,  luckily,  before  the  con- 
cealed portion  of  their  foes  got  a  fair  chance  at  them. 
They  brought  in  the  confederate  wounded  (such  as  fell 
into  their  hands)  with  as  much  tenderness  as  was  pos- 
sible in  the  haste  and  confusion.  The  dead  they  left  as 
they  lay.  Fargeon  went  to  poor  Clint  Thrush,  and,  with 
help  from  Aleck  and  others,  got  him  to  the  fence,  where 
the  boys  quickly  laid  down  a  length  of  rails  to  pass  him 
through.  The  transit  was  not  made  without  some  groans, 
and  one  cry  that  was  almost  a  scream.  Sharp  bone  ends 
were  evidently  loose  in  his  flesh. 

Then  all  the  wounded  were  clustered  together  waiting 
for  transportation  homeward. 

"I  wonder  if  anybody  will  have  sense  enough  to  send 
us  some  stretchers!  Oh,  yes;  here  they  come.  Thank 
God,  Dr.  McShane  knows  enough  to  know  that  shots 
call  for  stretchers. " 

A  feeble  voice  was  heard  from  near  by.  It  was  Clin- 
ton's, as  he  lay  by  a  tree,  his  head  supported  by  his 
brother. 

"Did  we  lick  'em, Lieutenant?" 

"You  bet  we  did!  I  counted  three  stone-dead.  And 
just  see  our  bo5's  fetching  in  their  wounded!  One,  two, 
three,  four — right  where  we  are." 

Company  K  halted  behind  the  fence  and  watched  the 
opposite  woods  while  waiting  for  orders.  The  pork  and 
crackers  brought  by  Mark  and  Ed  were  sparingly  dealt 
out  and  contentedly  munched,  the  prisoners  who  were 
not  too  badly  hurt  getting  their  bite  with  the  rest.  Can- 
teens were  generally  empty  before  this,  and  certain  men 
were  now  allowed  to  gather  from  their  comrades  as  many 
as  they  could  carry  and  go  back  to  a  little  ditch  they 
had  crossed    in  their  advance,  fill    them,  and  distribute 


102  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

them  to  their  thirsty  owners.  Fargeon  noticed  Corporal 
Dugong  very  active  and  audible  among  the  workers,  so 
he  must  have  been  mistaken  in  the  identity  of  the  dead 
man. 

The  captain  mingled  with  the  men  and  ate  a  bit  of 
cracker  with  a  slice  of  cold  boiled  salt  pork  (sweeter 
than  fresh  grass-butter)  laid  on  it;  took  a  pull  at  one  of 
the  canteens  newly  filled  at  the  ditch  (delicious  nectar), 
and,  looking  round  for  fresh,  new  worlds  to  conquer, 
accepted  the  loan  of  Morphy's  pipe,  from  which  he  took 
several  cautious  whiffs. 

"Mac,  what  day  of  the  week  is  this?" 

"Let's  see:  we  got  our  orders  Wednesday,  we  sailed 
Thursday,  we  landed  Friday,  we  marched  Saturday — that's 
yesterday — to-day's  Sunday,  by  my  reckoning." 

Captain  William  Fargeon,  Sundaj^-school  superintend- 
ent and  temperance  missionary,  smiled  grimly,  then 
laughed  aloud. 

"What's  the  matter,  captain?" 

"Oh — nothing  much,"  he  answered;  then,  to  himself, 
he  added:  "A  fight,  a  swear-word,  a  drink  of  liquor, 
and  a  pipe — all  on  Sabbath  morning!  "  and  laughed  again. 


The  men  are  resting  gayly,  at  their  ease,  some  in  the 
shady  corners  of  the  worm  fence,  some  under  the  trees 
hard  by,  among  whose  branches  the  cicadas  are  screaming 
their  delight  in  the  hot  sunshine.  It  is  scarcely  more 
than  twenty  minutes  since  our  boys  leaped  the  fence  to 
pursue  the  retreating  foe,  j^et  to  some  men  it  is  a  life- 
time, to  others  the  beginning  of  a  long,  slow,  maimed 
existence. 

In  front,  the  young  corn  spreads  its  deep  green  far  and 
wide,'  broken  and  disturbed  by  the  deadly  work  that 
went  on  in   and  through    and  over    it  a  little   while  ago. 


THE    FLAG    OF   TRUCE.  I03 

Somewhere  in  its  expanse,  at  some  unmarked  spots,  lie 
three  prostrate  human  figures.  Enemies?  No;  former 
enemies,  now  insensate  clods,  to  be  neither  hated  nor 
feared. 

The  rest  following  a  small  affair,  wherein  we  have  had 
a  success,  or  at  any  rate  no  serious  loss  or  disaster,  is  a 
delightful  interval  to  those  alive  and  unhurt.  One  more 
yawning  chasm  past,  one  less  deadly  peril  before  us  of 
those  marked  opposite  our  names  in  the  illegible  book 
of  fate;  a  hard  duty  done  this  day,  whether  any  one 
except  us  ever  knows  it  or  not;  and  perhaps  a  little 
dearly-loved  honor  and  fame  added  to  our  few  treasures. 
Somxething  to  talk  of  in  camp;  something  to  write  of 
to  the  dear  home-folks,  now  further  away  than  ever. 
Something  to  remember  to  the  day  of  death,  be  it  near 
at  hand  or  dim  in  the  future.  A  great  rebound  of 
spirits  from  the  terrible  tension  of  the  ordeal — a 
hilarity  that  seems  natural  even  in  caring  for  the  suffer- 
ing wounded  or  the  quiet  dead. 

"Well,  Clinton,  old  boy!  Your  turn  to-day,  mine 
next  time.     How  do  you  feel?" 

"First-rate,  Captain." 

"I  guess  Clint  will  come  out  all  O  K, "  said  Aleck, 
who  now  had  his  arm  under  his  brother's  head  as  it  lay 
on  the  stretcher,  and  was  wiping  off  the  sweat-drops  of 
pain  and  weakness  as  they  gathered  on  his  forehead. 

"All  right?  Of  course  he  will!  He'll  be  singing  in 
the  quartet  again  before  we  know  it." 

"I  wonder  if  those  fellows  have  any  brothers  on  the 
other  side!"  said  Clinton,  turning  his  head  with  diffi- 
culty to  where  the  wounded  prisoners  sat  or  lay  in  a 
row. 

"Might  be,"  said  Fargeon,  while  the  laugh  died  from 
his  face.      But  his  blood    was  flowing    too  free    for  long 


/ 


104  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

regrets.  A  smile  chased  away  the  pain  and  he  added: 
"They  had  no  business  to  be  rebels — and  then  to  come 
out  and  try  to  fight  Company  K!  " 

"Bully  for  you!  Bully  for  all!"  quavered  Clinton. 
"What  became  of  my  gun?" 

"Oh,  little  Mark  got  it,"  answered  Aleck,  "and  *  * 
he  used  it  too! " 

Fargeon  had  taken  off  his  kepi. 

"Why,  Captain,  did  you  get  hit?  Your  forehead  looks 
as  if  it  had  been  grazed  by  a  ball." 

"No,  no!  "  answered  Will  hastily,  while  the  abraded 
forehead  flushed  up  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  "Brushed 
against  something  in  passing." 

The  stretcher-bearers  were  now  told  off  to  help  the 
hospital  men,  and  our  wounded  carried  to    camp. 

"Set  the  stretchers  down  at  the  hospital  tent,  and  get 
four  more  and  hurry  back  for  the  wounded  rebs.  Don't 
wait  for  these  to  be  unloaded,"   shouted  Mac. 

"Four?     Why,  there  are  five  to  go,"  said  Will. 

"Oh,  there's  one  who  won't  need  a  stretcher." 

They  went  over  to  where  a  fine  specimen  of  humanity 
was  lying  (and  dying),  a  little  apart  from  the  rest. 
Young,  strong,  handsome,  high-bred — curls,  that  might 
have  been  the  pride  of  a  doting  mother,  clustering 
round  a  brow  that  might  have  been  the  hope  of  an 
ambitious  father.  Eyes  fit  to  shine  as  the  heaven  of 
love  and  trust  to  some  happy  bride,  the  light  gone  from 
them  forever;  the  lids  drawn  back  and  the  balls 
sunken  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  their  owner  had  been 
born  blind.  A  bullet  had  torn  clean  through  his  lungs, 
and  the  breath  made  a  dreadful  noise  escaping  through 
the  wound  at  every  exhalation. 

Fargeon  wiped  away  the  bloody  froth  that  oozed  from 
the  wounded  man's  lips  and  over   his  downy  beard,  and 


THE    FLAG    OF    TRUCE.  IO5 

tried  to  pour  some  drops  of  water  into  his  mouth,  but 
it  ran  out  unswallowed.  He  asked  the  others  the  name 
of  the  dying  man,  and  found  it  to  be  Huger.  [Pro- 
nounced Hujee.] 

No  more  "joy  of  battle"  for  Captain  Fargeon.  He 
walked  away  along  the  line,  trying  to  forget  the  dying 
boy,  and  listened  to  the  usual  free  comments  of  the  pri- 
vate soldier. 

"Now,  why  don't  our  boys  back  in  camp  move  up  and 
charge  them  woods?  We've  done  our  part,  and  now  the 
big-bugs  that  sent  us  out  ain't  ready  to  follow  up  our 
victory !" 

"Oh,  dry  up,  Eph !  What  do  you  know  about  war? 
Ye  don't  know  no  more  about  war  than  a  fish  knows  about 
water!  War's  jest  pushin'  men  out  to  git  killed  and 
then  pullin'  'em  back  to  die  of  old  age.  Kind  o'  'mark- 
time  march;'  keep  a-steppin'  an'  never  git  ahead 
none. " 

In  spite  of  the  relaxation  and  repose,  watchful  eyes 
were  always  directed  toward  the  front. 

"Hello!     They're  sending  out.  a  flag  of  truce!" 

The  cry  came  from  several  parts  of  the  line  at  once; 
and  Fargeon  ran  to  McClintock  for  advice,  as  usual. 

"Sarg'nt  Coggill  and  Chipstone,  leave  your  guns  an'  go 
out — double-quick — halt  them  where  you  meet  them,  and 
find  out  what  they  want.  Tell  them  if  they  come  any 
nearer  we'll  fire  on  them,  flag  or  no  flag.  One  of  you 
stay  with  'em— Sarg'nt,  you  stay  with  'em;  keep  your 
mouth  shut  and  your  eyes  and  ears  open.  Chipstone, 
you  bring  back  the  message." 

The  emissaries  started,  and  our  boys  began  to  perch 
themselves  on  a  fence. 

"Down!  Git  down,  all  of  you,  you  fools!  Do  you 
want  to   let   them  know  how  few  there   are  of  us?     Let 


/ 


I06  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

'em  think  there's  a  battery  and  a  whole  brigade  in  line 
of  battle  right  here,  if  they  want  to." 

Soon  Chipstone  came  running  back. 

"They  want  to  see  an  officer  who  can  treat  for  a  truce 
to  bury  dead  and  care  for  the  wounded." 

"What's  the  rank  of  the  officer  with  the  flag?" 

"I__don't  know.      He  had  no  shoulder-straps." 

"No;  they  don't  wear  'em.      You  go  back  and  find  out." 

Soon  he  made  the  journey  out  and  back. 

"A  captain  and  a  lieutenant." 

"WelljCapt'nFargeon,  you  will  probably  meet  the  cap- 
tain, and  take  either  me  or  Morphy  with  you." 

"Oh,  come  along,  McClintock.  We'll  see  what  they 
want. " 

"Well,  sir,  will  you  instruct  Lieut' nt  Morphy  to  take 
charge  of  our  men— to  keep  them  hidden  and  watchful  in 
front  and  on  flanks?" 

Morphy  got  his  orders,  and  the  others  started. 

"Mac,  could  it  be  that  they  are  moving  to  cut  us  off?" 

"No,  not  while  the  flag  of  truce  is  out.  They  ain't  In- 
jins. " 

As  they  walked  on,   he  added: 

"Same  time,  this  flag  of  truce  is  a  mere  pretense. 
They  want  to  find  out  if  there's  a  chance  for  a  rush  on 
us,  to  retrieve  their  little  repulse  of  this  morning.  Now, 
suppose  your  two  guns  were  there  and  only  K  company 
to  support  them,  and  they  found  it  out  by  this  smart 
trick,  and  had  a  regiment  in  the  edge  of  those  woods — " 

"Well,  what  then?" 

"Why,  the  confederacy  would  be  two  guns  ahead  to- 
night. Guns  without  infantry  to  back  them  are  as  help- 
less as  baby-carriages." 

They  approached  the  two  officers  and  the  sergeant 
bearing  the  flag — a  handkerchief  tied  on  a  gun-rammer. 


THE    FLAG    OF   TRUCE.  I07 

The  captain  was  a  tall,  pale,  rather  elderly  gentleman, 
silent  and  rigidly  grave.  The  lieutenant  was  the  typical 
southern  officer;  thin  and  sallow,  smooth-faced  except  a 
fringe  of  mustache  over  a  sharp  mouth,  long  black  hair 
brushed  behind  his  ears  and  falling  to  his  collar;  level 
brows  and  black  eyes  that  shone  with  fierce,  untamable 
light. 

The  four  officers  touched  their  caps  as  they  met.  The 
confederate  lieutenant  spoke: 

"Gentlemen,  I  make  you  acquainted  withCapt'nHuger, 
of  the  Lou'siana  Fire-Eaters.  I  am  Lieut.  Judah,  of  the 
same  reg'ment." 

As  the  junior  officer  had  spoken,  McCiintock  replied, 
introducing  Captain  Fargeon  and  himself.  Then  the  south- 
erner went  on: 

"Gentlemen,  as  we  were  ovahmatched — I  would  say  out 
numbahed — in    our    little    affaiah    of    this    morning,    we 
thought  best  toretiah,  and,  in  disobedience  of  the  ordahs 
of  Capt'n  Huger    and    myself,  some    of    ouah  dead    and 
wounded  were  left  on  the  field." 

The  northerners  bowed. 

"Now,  sail,  Ma j ah  Leroy  commanding  the  fo'ce  in  your 
immejate  front,  sen's  his  compliments  and  requests  the 
cou'tesy  of  a  truce  fo'  two  houahs  to  cayah  fo'  ou' 
wounded  and  bury  ou'  dead." 

Fargeon  made  an  inclination  to  Mac  to  authorize  him 
to  repl}^  and  he  did  so. 

"Lieutenant,  we  have  already  cared  for  your  wounded; 
and  as  to  your  dead,  we  are  willing  to  send  them  over  to 
your  line  by  details  of  our  men;  or,  according  to  rule, 
to  forward  )^our  request  to  our  commanding  officer." 

"Very  well,  sah.  Do  you  mean  that  you  will  insist 
that  yo'  men  shall  be  allowed   to  bring    ou'  dead  quite 


Io8  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

to  ou'  own  lines,  sah?     Or  that  we  shall  leave  them  un- 
buried,  or  come  and  take  them  by  fo'ce,  sah?" 

"As  to  coming  to  take  them  by  force,  you  know,Lieu- 
tenant,  you  didn't  need  a  flag  of  truce  to  authorize  you 
to  do  that." 

"By  God,  sah,  if  I  had  my  way  we  would  have  had  no 
flag  of  truce,  sah!  We'd  have  had  our  battle-flag,  sah, 
to  recovah  ou'    dead,  sah!  " 

"We  should  have  been  glad  to  see  you,  Lieutenant. 
There's  room  behind  our  lines  for  the  rest  of  your  force." 

"By  God,  sah!  — " 

But  the  silent  gentleman  at  his  side  laid  his  hand  on 
the  youth's  shoulder  and  quelled  him  by  a  look.  Far- 
geon  now  interposed. 

"Pardon,  gentlemen,  I  think  we  should  feel  authorized 
to  have  your  dead  brought  to  this  place,  and  your  men 
allowed  unmolested  to  take  them  into  your  lines." 

The  elder  man,  to  whom  Fargeon  had  addressed  him- 
self, bowed  a  silent  assent  to  this. 

Mac  wrote  a  few  lines  in  his  book,  and,  tearing  out  the 
leaf,  gave  it  to  Chipstone  to  deliver  to  Lieut.  Morphy. 
In  a  few  minutes  eight  men  were  seen  to  leave  the  fence 
and  begin  searching  about  among  the  corn-hills.  Before 
long  three  bodies  clad  in  shabby  gray,  dirty  and  blood- 
stained, were  being  slowly  dragged  toward  the  little 
group,  their  helpless  heels  leveling  the  corn-plants  as 
they  passed,  their  hatless  heads  dropped  back,  their 
white  mouths  wide  open,  and  their  dead  eyes  staring  hid- 
eously toward  the  pitiless  sky. 

Captain  Huger  stood  with  his  back  to  the  work,  but  as 
each  corpse  was  laid  down  he  gave  one  quick,  searching, 
agonized  glance,  and  then  turned  instantly  away. 

"That  is  all,   gentlemen." 


THE    FLAG    OF   TRUCE.  IO9 

The  old  captain  heaved  a  long,  deep  sigh,  seemingly 
of  relief  and  hope. 

"Are  all  the  six  others  whom  we  miss,  wounded  and 
in  your  hands?" 

"We  have  six  in  our  hands,  wounded  or  not." 

"Are  there  any  prisoners  not  wounded?" 

"One.     I  have  not  yet  taken  his  name." 

"Can  you  describe  him?"  asked  the  lieutenant.  But 
Captain  Huger  shook  his  head,  intimating  that  he  knew  it 
was  not  the  man  they  had  in  their  minds.  So  the  lieu- 
tenant changed  the  question. 

"Can  we  obtain  him  by  parole,  exchange,  or  otherwise?  " 

"Personally  we  have  nothing  to  say  about  parole  or  ex- 
change." 

"If  we  could  lay  our  hands  on  him  he  would  be  shot  at 
sundown. " 

"Then  of  course  he  can  in  no  case  be  paroled  or  ex- 
changed." 

The  Confederate  lieutenant  here  whispered  a  few  words 
to  his  senior,  who  replied  v/ith  a  nod;  then  turned  his 
back  and  stood  like  a  statue. 

"There  is  one  man  in  yo'  hands,  gentlemen,  I  wish 
informally  to  ask  about,  undah  circumstances — " 

"Do  you  mean  Private  Huger?" 

"I  do,   sah." 

"He  is  wounded  in  our  hands." 

"Severely?" 

"Mortally." 

A  dreadful  silence  fell  upon  the  group.  No  one  knew 
how  to  break  it.  Fargeon,  with  a  question  in  his  look, 
pointed  to  the  heroic  figure  beyond;  and  Judah  answered 
with  a  nod  that  seemed  to  say,  "Father  and  son." 

The  grief-stricken  father  never  raised  his  hand  to  his 
eyes;   but  his  frame  wavered  a  little,  and  from  time  to 


no  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

time  he  bowed  his  head  and  shook  it  slightly,  when  one 
or  two  scattered  drops  would  shine  for  an  instant  in  the 
sun  as  they  fell  to  the  ground. 

At  last  Mac  spoke: 

"With  Capt'n  Fargeon's  permission,   I  propose  that  if 
Private    Huger  shall  have  died  before    the  flag  is  with 
drawn,  we  shall  deliver  his  body  as  we  have  the  others." 

"Verv  good,  sah.     And  if  not,  sah?" 

"Then  I  don't  know  what  more  we  can  say,"  said 
Mac;    to  which  Fargeon  added: 

"Except  that  we  shall  treat  the  rebel  wounded  as  we 
do  our  own.'" 

Judah  flared  up  again  in  an  instant. 

'I'll  thank  you,  Capt'n  Fargeon,  not  to  presume  upon 
the  protection  affo'ded  you  by  a  flag  of  truce!  I'll  thank 
you,  sah,  to  speak  of  Confederate  soldiers  befo'  Confed- 
erate officahs  with  propah  respect,  sah!  " 

"Lieutenant,  it  was  quite  accidental.  I  will  repeat  the 
remark  in  the  form  I  should  have  given  it  at  first:  We 
shall  treat  wounded  enemies  as  we  would  wounded 
friends." 

"Very  well,  sah.  I  am  moah  than  satisfied.  You 
speak  of  us  as  yo'  enemies;  I  reg-yahd  that  as  the  most 
honorable  name  you  could  bestow,  sah!" 

Fargeon  answered  with  a  good-humored  smile.  How 
far  he  was  from  looking  at  them  as  they  seemed  to  look 
at  us! 

Said  Mac,  listlessly  plucking  a  corn-leaf  and  tearing 
it  into  long,  thin,  green  ribbons: 

"I  need  not  say  that  if  Private  Huger  shall  live  long 
enough,  we  shall  be  glad  to  favor  an  exchange  for  one 
of  our  men,  if  you  have  one  to  offer." 

"A  wounded  man,  sah?" 

"No;    a  well  man." 


THE    FLAG    OF   TRUCE.  Ill 

"Well,  sail,  I  assume  to  say  that  that  would  be  an 
exchange  giving  you-uns  an  advantage  which  Capt'n 
Huger  would  decline  to  give  you,  sah." 

"Then,  gentlemen,  as  we  have  no  more  immediate  busi- 
ness, we  propose  to  withdraw." 

"And  how  about  ouah  flag,  sah?" 

"We  shall  consider  it  withdrawn  within  half  an  hour 
after  Ave  leave  you,  unless  we  in  the  meantime  act  under 
it  as  proposed." 

"Very  well,  sah!  Capt'n  Huger,  the  gentlemen  are 
ready  to  retiah." 

The  dignified  father  turned  toward  them,  his  face  like 
that  of  a  stone  image.  Fargeon  impulsively  extended  his 
hand,  but  the  other  seemed  not  to  see  it.  He  touched 
liis  hat,  turned  on  his  heel  again,  and  stood  motionless 
while  our  men  retraced  their  steps,  pushing  down  their 
sword-hilts  so  that  the  scabbards  should  not  drag  against 
the  corn-blades. 

Our  wounded  had  been  sent  in  and  the  stretchers 
brought  back  for  the  rebels.  All  were  loaded  except 
Huger,  who  was  still  alive,  though  nearly  done  with  his 
struggle.  Mac  went  to  the  stretchers  and  made  a  slight 
examination  of  the  sufferers.     Then  he  said  to  one  of  them: 

"Get  up  and  walk." 

"Oh,  Lieutenant,  my  arm's  shot  to  pieces;  I  can't 
travel." 

"You  don't  travel  on  your  arm.  Get  out  of  that.  I 
want  it  for  Huger." 

"Oh,  for  Cap  Huger' s  son?  Surely  I' 11  get  up.  Could 
ye  give  me  suth'n'  to  tie  my  arm  so  it  won't  hang  down?" 

"Get  up!  I  ain't  here  to  wait  on  you,"  and  he  made 
as  if  he  would  tip  the  man  off  on  the  ground. 

"Oh,  hold  on!"  cried  Fargeon.  "I  can't  stand  that! 
Here,  boy,  let    me  tie  my  handkerchief  in  your  button- 


112  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

hole;  now  let  me  slip  your  wrist  through  and  clasp  your 
hands  together^so!  " 

The  fellow  submitted  in  wondering  silence,  and  then 
got  up  and  sat  down  on  a  log,  nursing  his  unlucky  arm 
as  if  it  were  a  pet  dog. 

They  lifted  Huger  on  the  stretcher.  Mac  looked  at 
him  critically. 

"Guess  we'll  call  him  dead,  captain,  and  give  his 
friends  the  job  of  burying  him.     What  do  you  say?" 

"I  say  yes." 

"All  right,  then.  Here,  Mark,  you  and  Chipstone  and 
Bob  and  Coggill  carry  this  body  over  to  the  men  at  the 
flag.  Remember  it's  a  dead  man — never  anything  else — 
you  remember?"  And  he  winked  at  them  individually 
and  collectively. 

Fargeon  saw  them  reach  the  place;  saw  them  lift  off 
the  load  and  come  back  with  the  stretcher;  saw  that 
there  were  only  two  figures  instead  of  three  visible  at 
and  about  the  flag;  and  felt  what  he  could  not  see — the 
desolate  old  man  prone  among  the  corn-hills,  with  his 
son  in  his  arms.  One  more  embrace,  after  so  many,  to 
the  baby,  boy,  youth  and  man. 

"Now,  Mac,  what  do  we  do  with  our  dead  man?  Who 
was  it?" 

"One  of  our  men  killed?  First  I've  heard  of  it.  Must 
be  out  on  the  flanks  somewhere." 

"No;  right  near  here.  I  passed  him  as  I  came  up. 
Here — I  can  find  the  very  log  he  lay  behind,  in  half  a 
minute. " 

"Well,  let's  be  quick,"  said  Mac.  "I'm  expecting 
some  shells  over.  Of  course  you  noticed  that  their 
white  flag  was  tied  onto  a  gun-rammer." 

Will  was  ashamed  to  confess  that  he  had  not  noticed 
anything  of  the  kind. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

BURSTING    SHELLS. 


ARGEON  and  McClintock  found  the 
gap  in  the  fence,  debated  which  way 
from  that  had  been  the  point  where  the 
former  had  rejoined  after  his  trip  to 
headquarters,  started  back,  and  soon 
came  upon  the  very  log.  Will  ap- 
proached it  with  awe-struck  seriousness, 
leady  to  turn  over  the  corpse  and  look 
in  the  face  of  a  dead  friend.  There 
was  nothing  there. 

"No  body — nobody!  "  cried  Fargeon, 
whereat  Mac  laughed. 

■'What  does  it  mean?"  asked  Will,  standing  on  the  log 
and  looking  about  to  see  if  he  could  be  mistaken.  No! 
There  in  the  distance  stood  the  memorable  white-oak! 
Then  he  got  down  where  the  man  had  lain,  and  found 
dim  foot-tracks,  and  marks  that  might  have  been  made 
by  the  toes  of  boots.  Also  a  dint  that  might  have  come 
from  the  butt  of  a  musket.  Then  he  cried  to  Mac  to 
come  and  look — at  not  less  than  a  dozen  cartridges,  partly 
hidden  under  the  log. 

"It  means  a  skulker,"  said  Mac.      "A corporal,  too,  you 
say?     If   I   can   prove   it   on    him,   I    go   for    tearing   his 
stripes  off  in  the  face  of  the  whole  regiment;    then   hav- 
ing him   bucked  and   gagged,  put   on   police  duty  for  a 
8  113 


114  '^^^  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

month  and  docked  of  a  year's  pay!  That's  a  thing 
that's  go^  to  be  squelched  !" 

"Why,  Mac — is  it  common?" 

"Common?  Don't  ask  me!  Every  battle  is  fringed 
with  'em.  The  fine  fellows  get  killed  and  wounded  and 
the  skulkers  live  forever,  and  their  widows  draw  pen- 
sions afterward." 

"I  guess  I  can  pick  him  out,  Mac.  I'll  let  you  know  if 
I  succeed." 

He  strolled  off  to  the  line  and  joined  one  group  of 
gossipers  after  another,  telling  them  a  little  of  the  scene 
at  the  flag  of  truce,  concerning  which  they  were  ex- 
tremely curious. 

"Cale  Dugong,  where  were  you  in  the  fight?" 

"I  was  right  in  over  yonder,  Cap,  or  a  leetle  more  to 
the  left.  I  was  just  telling  the  boys  how  I  knocked  over 
two  of  the  Johnnies — I  shouldn't  wonder  if  one  of  the 
wounded  men  see  me  aim  at  him.  Maybe  not,  though. 
But  I  know  one  of  the  killed  did;  and  it  was  the  last 
thing  he  ever  did  see,  too." 

"Wnicb  two  of  our  men  were  you  between?" 

"Oh,  I  started  in  between  Eph  ToUiver  an' Tom  I  ooser, 
didn't  I,   boys?" 

"Yes;  that's  the  way  we  stood  coming  up  through  the 
woods,  an'  after  we  got  to  the  fence,  before  the  rebs 
com-''  out." 

"Well,  there's  where  it  was,  then.  After  the  reserve 
jined,  I  dunno  v^^ho  I  was  with,  I  was  a-firin'  so  fast. 
I  bet  there  ain't  a  man  in  the  company  fired  more  car- 
tridges than  I  did!  "  He  opened  his  cartridge-box,  and, 
to  be  sure,  it  was  half  empty. 

"Maybe  that's  because  you  fired  so  often  before  you 
were  told  to  fire!  Step  this  way,  Caleb:  I've  got  toliave 
a  talk  with  you." 


BURSTING    SHELLS.  II5 

Caleb  obeyed,  his  face  turning  rapidly  from  "red  as  a 
beet  to  white  as  a  sheet,"  the  boys  said,  winking  at  each 
other  as  he  disappeared  in  the  wake  of  the  captain. 

They  walked  to  the  log  in  grim  silence. 

"Pick  up  those  cartridges  and  put  them  back  in  your 
box." 

"Why,  Cap — " 

"Silence,  sir!  Now  throw  some  leaves  over  where  your 
toes  and  the  butt  of  your  gun  scratched  the  dirt.  Hide 
your  shame !  " 

Caleb  obeyed. 

"What  5'e  goin'  t'  do  to  me,  Cap?  I  was  sick — 
honest,  I  was."  And  he  proceeded  to  give  some  plausi- 
ble functional  reason  for  his  defection. 

When  he  had  done,  Fargeon  pointed  back  to  his  place 
in  the  ranks,  saying  sternly: 

"Private  Dugong,  go  back  to  your  duty." 

"Ain't  I  a  corp'ral  no  more.  Cap?" 

"No.  We  don't  want  skulking  corporals.  If  you 
resign  and  rip  off  your  stripes,  all  right;  if  you  don't, 
it  will  be  done  for  you.  If  you  are  brought  before  a 
court-martial,  you  may  be  shot  for  leaving  the  ranks 
under  fire.     Your  life  depends  on  your  future  conduct." 

He  left  Caleb  sitting  on  the  log,  helpless  with  fright. 
The  culprit  soon  braced  up,  however,  and  blustered  back 
into  his  place. 

"Well,  I  won't  stand  it!  I'll  go  back  to  the  ranks! 
Any  private  could  make  a  mistake  an'  fire  without  orders, 
an'  nobody' d  say  a  word  to  him;  but  let  a  corp'ral  do 
it  wunst  and  he  gits  abused  like  a  dog!  Yes,  sir! 
You  needn't  call  me  Corp'ral  Cale  no  more!  "  And  they 
did  not. 

Fargeon  told  Mac  what  he'd  done,  and  the  latter  re- 
marked: 


Il6  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

"Well,  that's  good  in  one  way,  anyhow,  even  if  it's 
bad  in  another.  It  gives  us  another  chance  to  promote 
a  man.  Clinton  Thrush  is  a  sergeant;  he'll  be  off  for  a 
long  time,  if  he  ever  comes  back.  We  can  promote  a 
corporal  to  his  place  and  raise  two  men  from  the  ranks." 

"fiard  on  Clinton." 

"No!  He  ought  to  be  a  lieutenant  by  that  time. 
Lots  of  vacancies  comJng;  not  to  speak  of  new  regi- 
ments." 

"I'd  like  to  see  little  Mark  a  corporal,  for  particular 
reasons." 

"Mark' 11  be  one,  of  course,  though  we'll  lose  him  as 
Our  orderly.  Ought  to  have  been  one  from  the  start, 
knowing  as  much  as  he  does.  How  would  Clinton's 
brother  Alec  do  for  a  sergeant,  and  Chipstone  for  a  cor- 
poral?" 

"Couldn't  be  better." 

Orders  now  came  from  headquarters  to  return  to  camp 
at  once.  [The  two  guns  had  been  overtaken  and  turned 
backward.]  Word  was  passed  along  the  line  to  come  to 
"attention"  and  "prepare  to  retire  as  skirmishers;  "  but 
before  the  order  could  be  obeyed  a  flash  in  the  opposite 
woods  sent  across  the  corn-field  a  slight  gleam  visible  in 
spite  of  the  sunshine.  Soon  followed  the  roar  of  a  dis- 
tant field-piece,  and,  almost  at  the  same  instant  with  the 
sound,  the  shriek  of  a  near  shell  passing  over  their  heads; 
then  among  the  trees  behind  them  there  was  another  great 
bang  as  the  shell  burst;  then  a  humming,  as  of  a  hun- 
dred gigantic  bees,  from  the  fragments  of  the  shell  as 
they  flew  through  the  air,  hunting  the  neighborhood  for 
victims. 

The  men  in  the  immediate  vicinity  dropped  flat  down 
as  if  they  had  been  struck  by  lightning.  It  seemed  im- 
possible for  human  nature  to  stand    up    before    and    be- 


BURSTING  SHELLS.  II7 

neath  the  yelling,  flying  beast.  Fargeon  dropped  among 
the  rest.  He  felt  as  if  he  could  not  hug  mother  earth 
closely  enough — he  would  have  liked  to  dig  a  hole,  with 
his  nails,  to  hide  in.  Almost  before  the  echoes  of  the 
first  shot  died  away  another  rang  out,  with  the  same 
series  of  sounds.  The  shriek  of  a  shell  is  more  appall- 
ing than  the  scream  of  an  angry  horse. 

Will  knew  that  something  must  be  done,  but  what?  He 
wished  he  could  ask  Mac.  As  he  framed  the  wish  he 
heard  Mac's  drawl  above  him;  raised  his  head,  and  there 
was  the  bold  fellow  erect  and  cool,  standing  on  the  top 
rail  of  the  fence,  steadying  himself  with  his  left  hand 
on  a  fence  stake,  while  he  peered  under  his  right  at  the 
opposite  woods. 

"Two  pieces — that's  all.  I  wish  I  knew  how  much 
infantry  they've  got!  Can't  have  been  much  while  we 
were  fighting,  or  they'd  have  come  out  and  supported 
their  skirmishers.  No  matter,  though.  We  couldn't 
venture  to  go  for  the  guns  with  only  one  company.  It 
would  take  all  our  men  to  drag  the  pieces — allowing  for 
losses  before  we  got  hold  of  'em.  If  I  had  a  regiment 
I'd  try  it;  I  would!  That  is,  of  course,  with  your  con- 
sent, Captain." 

Will  got  up  and  began  to  brush  the  dust  off  his  clothes, 
but  by  this  time  the  first  gun  was  reloaded,  and  again 
he  saw  the  flash  and  heard  the  shriek,  the  double  ex- 
plosion and  the  humming — heard  them  from  the  ground 
as  before;  Mac  still  perched  high  above  him.  The  third 
missile  struck  in  the  corn-field,  the  fertile  soil  being  too 
mellow  for  a  ricochet. 

"They  are  getting  the  range,"  coolly  observed  Mac. 
"Let's  get  back,  Captain,  whenever  you  are  ready." 

"The  sooner   the   better,"  said    Fargeon,    now   shamed 


Il8  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

out  of  his  nervousness.  "If  you'll  go  to  the  right  I'll 
go  to  the  left." 

"Very  well — oh,  I  thought  you  said  I  was  to  go  to  the 
right." 

"Do;   and  I  will  go  to  the  left." 

"Yes,  Captain ;   but  you  are   going    to    the    right  now." 

"Surely,  surely!  There;  I'll  go  to  the  right  and  you 
the  left.  I  forgot  that  I  should  always  talk  of  right  or 
left  as  if  we  were  facing  the  enemy." 

The  long,  straggling,  scattered  line  now  worked  slowly 
toward  camp,  the  halting  portion  of  the  men  always 
selecting  trees,  and  peering  out  from  behind  them  as 
the  moving  men  retired  past.  The  shells  still  rang 
merrily,  and  the  tree-tops  suffered  some  damage,  but  no- 
bodv  was  hurt.      Will  asked  Mac  if  it  wasn't  wonderful. 

"Naw!  "  answered  Mac  contemptuously,  true  infantry- 
man that  he  was.  "Artillery  scares,  but  doesn't  kill. 
It's  only  the  musket  that  means  business."  And  he 
tramped  back  and  forth  along  the  line,  talking  incessantly, 
as  was  evidently  his  habit  in  action. 

As  the  sense  of  danger  again  Avore  off,  Will's  spirits 
took  another  rebound,  and  he  moved  and  talked  as  Mac 
did,  just  as  if  there  were  no  peril  in  shells.  Then  he 
heard  a  man  near  him  cry  out  "Ouch!  "  and  saw  him  drop 
his  gun  and  begin  squeezing  the  right  hand  under  his 
left  arm  as  a  boy  might  who  had  pounded  his  thumb 
with  a  hammer.  One  of  the  buzzing  iron  bees  had  evi- 
dently stung.  Will  picked  up  the  gun,  and  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  hurt  hand  as  the  man  hurriedly  and  anx- 
iously inspected  it.  It  was  a  mere  glimpse,  but  it  showed 
a  broken  bone,  and  bloody  skin  and  flesh  both  fat  and 
lean.  Will  told  the  sufferer  to  hurry  on  to  camp;  and 
himself  resumed  his  tramping  back  and  forth,  carrying 
the  gun  and  feeling  a  little  nausea. 


BURSTING  SHELLS.  II9 

A  new  depression  seized  him;  his  mind's  eye  saw  only 
the  horrors  of  the  day,  and  his  mind's  ears  heard  only 
the  bubbling  escape  of  air  from  Private  Huger's  breast. 
His  fancy  pictured  this  last  wounded  man  going  through 
life  with  a  maimed,  misshapen,  hideous,  useless  rip'ht 
hand;  a  burden  to  himself  and  the  world.  The  cannon 
firing  behind  them  suddenly  stopped. 

"Now,  look  out  for  them,  boys!  "  shouted  Mac.  "Every 
man  take  a  tree  when  he  halts,  and  give  'em  'Hail 
Columbia'  if  they're  tryin'  for  a  rush." 

Will  repeated  the  order,  and  as  Mac  didn't  take  a  tree 
he  did  not  either,  but  moved  back  and  forth  as  before. 

"Cap  Fargeon  don't  take  no  tree,"  he  heard  one  halted 
man  call  to  his  neighbor. 

"Cap  hain't  got  no  use  for  no  tree,"  called  back  the 
one  addressed. 

Once  more  a  happy  glow  filled  his  heart,  and  he  felt  a 
lump  rise  in  his  throat  and  dew  start  to  his  eyes.  He 
loved  the  men  who  had  praised  him.  He  loved  all  the 
men  in  his  company.  Then  he  thought  of  their  being 
food  for  powder;  the  mere  sport  of  fate.  "The  best  fel- 
lows get  killed;  while  the  skulkers  live  forever,  and  their 
widows  draw  pensions  afterward,"  Mac  had  said.  Oh, 
how  can  a  just  God  permit  such  things?  So  did  pleas- 
ure and  pain  follow  each  other  across  his  abnormally  ex- 
cited soul. 

No  enemy  appeared,  and  soon  the  movement  became  a 
mere  scattered  tramp  to  the  rear.  Fargeon  approached 
McClintock  and  they  walked  along  together. 

"They  got  their  full  ration  in  the  corn-field,"  said  Mac. 

"Yes — poor  devils!  " 

"If  we  hadn't  met  their  flag  of  truce  where  we  did, 
they  would  have  found  out  how  weak  we  are,  and  tried 
to  get  back  at  us,  for  keeps." 


I20  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

They  walked  on  in  silence,  Will  thinking  of  Private 
Huger  and  his  father. 

"Oh,  Mac!   can't  this  business  be  stopped?" 

"It  ought  to  be.      It's  a  cursed  shame." 

"Think  of  that  poor  old  Capt'n  Huger  !" 

"Ya-as.  The  old  cuss  ought  to  know  better.  But, 
then,  both  sides  do  it  when  they  get  a  chance." 

"Do  what,  do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  use  the  flag  of  truce  to  snoop  information." 

"Oh!    that  was  not  what  I  had  in  mind." 

"What  then?" 

"Oh,  the  whole  beastly  job -the  slaughter,  the  wounds, 
the  maimings,  the  bereavements." 

"Oh,  I  see!      Well,  how  can  we  help  them?" 

"Just  look  at  it!  Take  that  young  Huger,  cutoff  in  his 
prime  and  promise,  shot  through  the  lungs  in  a  corn-field 
by  a  man  that  had  nothing  against  him — Chipstone,  as 
good  a  fellow  as  ever  lived,  without  a  hard  feeling  in  his 
heart  toward  any  man  on  earth;  I  can  see  that  Chip 
feels  it.  He  looks  like  a  ghost,  and  hasn't  opened  his 
lips  since  we  picked  up  the  poor  boy." 

"Oh,  Chip' 11  get  over  it." 

"I  hope  he  will;  or  I'm  afraid  he  will;  I  don't  know 
which." 

"Let  him  go  and  take  a  good  look  at  Clint  Thrush's 
leg.     That'll  help  him." 

"Oh,  my  God!  It  makes  me  sick."  Will  threw  his 
disengaged  hand  up  toward  the  unanswSring  sky. 

"Well,  how  are  we  going  to  carry  on  war  if  you  look 
at  all  those  things?" 

"It  ought  never  to  be  carried  on  at  all!  " 

"Oh,  of  course!  Bad  the  best  way  you  can  fix  it.  But 
that's  none  of  my  business.  Our  job  is  to  make  v/ar; 
somebody  else's  job  is  to  make  peace." 


BURSTING  SHELLS.  121 

"I  wonder  there  aren't  lots  of  our  fellows  poking  over 
to  see  what  the  firing  is  all  about." 

"Like  as  not  they  never  heard  a  thing — except  these 
last  cannon-shots." 

"What?     That  fusilade  not  heard  in  camp?" 

"No.  You  see  the  wind  is  in  our  faces  as  we  go  back. 
And  then  the  air  is  dry  and  thin;  that  makes  a  wonder- 
ful difference.  If  it  had  been  rainy  they  might  have 
heard  the  muskets  in  spite  of  the  woods." 

"Well,  that  young  aide-de-camp  must  have  told  we 
were  engaged." 

"Yes,  he  told  it  at  headquarters  of  course ;  and  then 
probably  the  stretchers  were  started  and  the  brigade  was 
called  out  under  arms  on  the  color  line.  No  chance  for 
anybody  to  wander  in  the  woods  after  that.  Still,  as 
you  say,  there  ought  to  have  been  messengers  constantly 
goirig  and  coming — would  have  been  if  headquarters 
amounted    to  shucks." 

"To  be  sure,  he  brought  us  orders  to  retire." 

"Ya-as,  but  how  did  they  know  we  could  retire  in 
proper  order,  bringing  dead  and  wounded.  Suppose  we'd 
met  a  regiment,  instead  of  a  company,  and  they'd  out- 
flanked us  and  wrapped  us  all  up!" 

"The  prisoners  we  sent  in  told  the  story." 

"Thanks  to  our  good  luck  and  good  fighting,  not  to 
their  good  management." 

So  they  tramped  along  through  the  scattered  under- 
brush, spotted  with  sunshine  and  shadow. 

Meanwhile  an  unlooked-for  glory  and  pleasure  was  in 
store  for  them. 


CHAPTER    X. 

HONOR  AND  OBLIVION. 

OMPANY— HALT!     By  the  right  flank, 
close  intervals— MARCH!  " 

The  skirmishers  were  coming  in  sight 
of  camp.  They  faced  into  line  (front- 
ing toward  the  enemy,  of  course),  and 
re-formed,  re-counted  and  re-dressed 
the  ranks  disordered  by  their  losses. 
The  officers  drew  swords.  "By  fours, 
right— FACE  '  Right  shoulder-shift— 
ARMS!  Forward  by  file  right — 
MARCH!      Left— left— left— left." 

As  they  neared  the  camp  the}'  saw 
that  the  three  regiments  of  the  brigade 
were  under  arms  on  the  color  line,  stand- 
ing at  "rest."  [The}^  had  been  called 
out,  as  Mac  had  guessed  they  would  be, 
at  the  sound  of  the  cannon.] 
A  wild  "Heigh!  "  started  spontaneously  from  the  long 
brigade  line  when  the  head  of  Company  K  came  in  sight. 
Again  and  again  it  rose,  springing  up  in  one  part  of  the 
line  after  another,  and  always  spreading  along  the 
ranks  from  end  to  end,  while  the  men  swung  their  caps 
or  raised  them  high  in  air  on  the  points  of  their  bayo- 
nets. 

Somewhere  in  K's  rank  was  heard  a  strong  voice  (alas! 

122 


HONOR  AND  OBLIVION.  1 23 

not  Clinton  Thrush's!)  starting  the    company   song,    to 
which  all  burst  into  chorus  at  the  proper  time: 

"Company  K  has  shown  the  way. 

BULLY  FOR  YOU  !     BULLY  FOR  ALL  ! 
Your  turn's  a  coming  some  other  day. 
BULLY  FOR  YOU  !     BULLY  FOR  ALL  !" 

The  other  companies  of  the  Sixth  took  up  the  song, 
and  then  the  rest  of  the  brigade  caught  on  in  a  heart}' 
though  desultory  and  irregular  fashion.  They  paid  small 
attention  to  words.  "Company  K!  Company  K!"  was 
good  enough  for  the  song,  and  "Bully  for  you!  Bully  for 
all!"  was  always  ready  when  anybody  thought  it  was 
time  for  the  chorus. 

Fargeon  was  going  to  lead  his  men  straight  in,  past 
the  right  flank  of  the  brigade,  but  as  he  approached  he 
saw  the  commanding  officer  (lieutenant-colonel)  of  the 
nearest  regiment  motioning  him  down  toward  the  left 
flank.  Not  knowing  just  what  he  would  be  at,  Will 
changed  direction  to  the  right;  and  soon  found  that  K 
was  to  be  highly  honored. 

The  lieutenant-colonel  brought  the  regiment  to  "atten- 
tion," with  arms  at  shoulder.  Then,  to  the  surprise  and 
delight  of  the  home-coming  skirmishers,  he  cried: 

"PRESENT— ARMS!" 

Fargeon  turned  to  the  happy,  excited  faces  of  Company 
K,  and  called  "SHOULDER— ARMS!"  [The  marching 
salute  was  with  arms  at  "shoulder."]  Tears  of  gratified 
pride  rose  to  his  eyes — why,  he  did  not  know.  The 
springs  of  smiles  and  tears  lie  close  together. 

The  other  regiments  in  turn  were  called  to  "attention," 
and  the  salute  repeated;  and  the  Sixth,  when  its  turn 
came,  gave  three  regular  cheers  and  a  "tiger"  to  its  dis- 
tinguished brothers. 

At  last  K  reached  its  tent-street.     The  coats  were  old; 


124  ^^^   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

the  caps,  once  so  jaunty,  were  in  all  possible  shapes  of 
crushed,  misshapen  disfigurement — the  whole  uniform  was 
shabby,  with  various  shades  of  faded  blue  and  various 
signs  of  sun  and  rain,  wear  and  tear;  but  yet  its  wearers 
were  clothed  with  honor  and  distinction.  Company  K 
had  fought,  suffered,  triumphed,  and  had  brought  in 
prisoners  and  trophies. 

"Company— HALT!  Break  ranks— MARCH!  "  And 
with  a  last  "Heigh!"  and  the  usual  slapping  of  musket- 
stocks,  the  boys  darted  into  their  tents,  laid  aside  their 
arms  and  accoutrements,  and  flung  themselves  flat  on 
their  backs  for  welcome,  grateful  rest.  They  had  not 
known  till  now  how  tired  they  were.  The  absence  of 
their  comrades  underarms  on  the  color  line,  gave  them  an 
interval  of  delicious  solitude;  utter  silence  reigned;  their 
eyes  closed  as  if  by  magic,  and  some  were  asleep  almost 
on  the  instant. 

But  George  Chipstone  lay  staring  at  the  canvas  above 
him  as  if  he  could  never  sleep  again. 

Fargeon  had  noticed  that  Colonel  Puller  was  not  with 
the  regiment  under  arms.  In  fact,  all  the  regiments  were 
in  charge  of  lieutenant-colonels.  He  went  at  once  to  the 
colonel's  tent  to  report,  but  learned  from  an  orderly  that  his 
commander,  with  the  other  colonels,  was  at  brigade  head- 
quarters, where  some  festivity  was  in  progress  on  the 
occasion  of  a  sword  presentation  to  the  valiant  Y.  R. 
Puller,  of  the  Sixth  Illinois.  A  committee  from  his  home 
district  had  arrived,  which  would  have  taken  him  greatly 
by  surprise  if  he  had  not  known  all  about  it  beforehand, 
and  now  he  was  entertaining  the  delegation  at  headquar- 
ters, where  speeches  were  being  made,  toasts  drunk,  and 
a  "good  time"  was  enjoyed  at  a  spread  given  by  Colonel 
Puller  to  the  general,  his  staff,  the  visitors,  and  other 
invited  guests. 


HONOR  AND  OBLIVION.  125 

Will  made  his  way  to  brigade  headquarters — a  neigh- 
boring farm-house — and  heard,  from  the  open  windows, 
sounds  of  merriment  that  jarred  on  his  ears;  that  festive 
volubility  which  is  so  repulsive  to  a  sad  and  sober  list- 
ener. He  sent  in  his  name  to  Colonel  Puller;  no  answer 
came  out  for  a  long  time,  because  the  messenger  dared  not 
interrupt  the  speaking;  and  when  word  did  come  it  was: 

"Colonel  Puller  sends  his  compliments  to  Capt.  Far- 
geon,  and  requests  him  to  call  at  his  quarters  in  an  hour." 

He  went  back  to  his  own  tent  sick  at  heart,  the  reac- 
tion from  excitement  and  tension  of  nerves  taking  full 
possession  of  soul  and  body.  He  threw  himself  prone 
along  his  rude  couch  and  pressed  his  eyeballs  hard  with 
his  fingers.  "Who  am  I?  Am  I  Will  Fargeon,  or  am  I 
a  Sabbath-breaking,  tobacco-smoking,  sv/earing,  drinking, 
murdering  ruffian?  Who  was  it  storming  up  and  down  that 
man's  corn-field,  glad  to  see  my  friends  killing  other  peo- 
ple's friends?  Glad  Chipstone's  bullet  plowed  through  the 
lung  of  that  splendid  old  man's  splendid  son!  Glad  my 
men  fired  low  and  sure  while  theirs  fired  high  and  wild! 
Glad  about  those  corpses  with  flies  sucking  the  unshed 
tears  from  their  eye  sockets  ! 

"That  was  just  about  church-time;  when  Sally  was 
sitting  at  the  sv/eet-toned  organ,  playing  soft  and  low; 
while  the  sun  was  throwing  through  the  stained  glass 
that  special  ray  that  always  makes  her  hair  look  like  an 
aureole.  I  can  hear  her  voice  chanting,  'And  on  earth 
peace,  good  will  to  men;'  while  I  was  screaming  through 
the  din,    'Fire  low,  men!      Aim  every  time!' 

"Is  it  all  a  horrid  nightmare?  No — there  is  the  wall 
of  the  tent;  I  can  feel  the  roughness  of  it  with  my 
fingers.  What  a  looking  hand!  How  horribly  shabby  I 
am  all  over!  On  earth  fire  low — peace — aim  your  piece 
every  time.     That's  a  pun,  isn't  it?"     And  he  fell  asleep. 


126  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Hello!  "  called  a  vinous  voice  in  spirituous  accents. 
"Hello!   Capt'n  Fargeon,  I  believe." 

"Ye-es,  sir;    I  believe  so  too." 

"Well,  Captain,  I  represent  the  'Fulcrum,*  as  you  may 
have  heard.  I  just  asked  Colonel  Puller  zvho  had  the  honor 
of  commanding  our  force  in  the  little  ruction  this  morn- 
ing, and  he  named  you."  [Silence.]  "Now,  Cap,  I 
being  who  I  am,  and  you  being  who  you  are,  you  may 
readily  fancy  my  object  in  disturbing  your  rosy  slumbers." 

"And  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Mr.  ?" 

"Call  me  whatever  you  please,  Cap — it's  all  one — 
when  you  talk  to  me  you  talk  to  the  'Fulcrum.'  That  is, 
I  presume,  a  sufficient  introduction.  You  had  but  one 
company,  I  understand;  and  I  suppose  the  force  you  met 
outnumbered  yours  two  to  one,  eh?  Or  was  it  ten  to  one 
this  time?" 

"Mr. — Mr. — Fulcrum,  I  may  be  wrong,  but  as  I  under- 
stand my  duty,  it  is  to  make  my  report  in  the  first  in- 
stance to  my  immediate  superior,  Colonel  Puller." 

"Oho!  Red  tape,  eh?  First  lesson  in  tactics  for  new 
beginners  is  red  tape!"  [Silence.]  "Now,  once  more, 
Captain,  and  for  the  last  time,  I  ask  if  you  will  furnish 
the  public  through  our  columns  the  details  of  your 
alleged  skirmish  of  this  morning." 

Will  slowly  rose,  slowly  pulled  aside  the  tent-flap, 
pointed  in  silence  toward  the  outside,  and  waited  till  the 
upstart,  with  a  contemptuous  snort,  departed. 

All  was  dark,  dismal,  disgusting,  degraded — well-nigh 
intolerable.      Will  said  to  himself: 

"Lucky  there's  no  whisky  at  hand — I  should  be 
almost  tempted  to  take  some  to  put  me  back  into  that 
contemptible  state  of  ignoble  self-complacency." 

Suddenly  he  bethought  himself  of  his  pipe.  He  found 
it  and  filled  it;  then,  looking  around  for  a  paper  to  light 


HONOR  AND  OBLIVION.  127 

at  the  camp-fire,  his  eye  fell  upon  he  letter  to  be  deliv- 
ered "if  I  fall,"  and  he  hastened  to  crumple  and  burn  it, 
as  if  it  had  been  something  to  be  ashamed  of. 

After  Fargeon  had  made  his  report  to  Col.  Puller,  the 
latter  joyfully  welcomed  the  young  dispenser  of  fame, 
and  submitted  to  the  inevitable  interview  with  scarcely 
disguised  gratification,  flattering  frankness,  and  unlimited 
whisky  and  cigars. 

Fargeon  was  very  glad  of  this,  for  he  would  have  been 
sorry  to  be  the  means  of  depriving  his  brave  fellows  of 
the  solace  that  flows  from  public  mention  of  public  serv- 
ice. As  to  his  personal  share  in  the  skirmish,  he  held 
it  in  very  humble  esteem,  and  would  try  not  to  grieve 
if  the  offense  he  had  given  should  result  in  his  being 
deprived  of  anything  be3'ond  a  bare  mention  of  his  name 
as  commanding  the  fighting  force.  He  knew  that  some 
bright  eyes  would  glisten,  and  some  friendl}'  faces  would 
smile  with  approval,  on  merely  knowing  that  he  was  on 
hand  and  had  his  share  in  the  manly  fray. 

Then  he  let  his  fancy  roam  a  little  along  the  road  to 
fame — so  easy  for  the  eyes  of  the  soldier,  and  so  hard 
for  his  feet — and  read  in  advance  the  letters  and  news- 
papers that  were  to  reach  him  through  the  mails  of  the 
next  month  or  two  if  he  should  live  so  long.  Sara  Pen- 
rose? Surely;  sweetest  and  best  of  all.  Her  father? 
Yes;  urging  that  to  God  should  be  given  the  glory. 
Families  of  his  soldiers?  Yes,  indeed!  Business  friends? 
Probably  some;  perhaps  even  one  from  Mayer  Moss- 
Rosen,  his  close  competitor  in  the  bitter  rivalry  of  trade. 
How  gratifying  and  consoling  that  would  be  ! 

To  return  to  our  resting  boys:  The  men  of  the 
brigade  under  arms  were  relieved  from  their  tiresome 
confinement  on  the  color- line;  not  as  soon  as  they  might 
have  been,  but  as  soon  as  the  attention  of  the  brigadier- 


128  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

general  could  be  drawn  from  Puller's  hospitable  board 
and  turned  in  their  direction.  Then  the  rest  of  the 
Sixth  swarmed  over  Company  K's  quarters  and  put  a 
speedy  end  to  all  repose. 

Over  and  over  did  the  men  have  to  tell  of  their  "bap- 
tism of  fire."  Cale  Dugong  was  perhaps  the  most  graphic 
and  soul-satisfying  narrator;  George  Chipstone  the  least, 
for  he  lay  in  his  tent  and  scarcely  opened  his  lips. 

"Killed  a  fine  young  chap,"  said  the  others  in  a  whis- 
per, to  account  for  his  "horrors." 

"Well,  what  of  it?  That's  what  we  come  out  for," 
said  Dugong.  "I  expect  I  killed  two.  Seen  'em  drop, 
anyhow,  an'   I'm  glad  of  it!  " 

When  Mark  brought  up  the  officers'  supper  he  men- 
tioned Chip's  predicament  to  Captain  Fargeon,  and  the 
captain  thought  he  ought  to  do  something  for  the  good 
fellow.      He  had  Mark  send  him  up. 

"Chipstone,  you  and  Clinton  are  great  friends,  aren't 
you?" 

"Yes,  Captain,"   answered  the  other  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"Let's  go  over  to  the  hospital,  and  cheer  him  up  a 
little.  You  get  his  things  together  and  bring  them  with 
you.      I'll  pass  you  along." 

As  they  walked  Will  said:  "A  Chicago  newspaper- 
man is  in  camp.  I  suppose  our  friends  at  home  will  get 
news  by  day  after  to-morrow  of  the  good  job  we  did  to- 
day." 

No  answer. 

"Those  rebels  seem  to  think  they  are  going  to  destroy 
the  great  United  States  of  America!  We  have  got  to 
teach  them  that  it  can't  be  done,  while  any  of  us  are 
living.  You  and  I  may  fall;  some  other  good  men  will 
step  into  our  places.  The  southerners  will  find  they've 
'bit  off  more  than  they  can  chaw,'   as  the  country  folks 


HONOR  AND   OBLIVION.  1 29 

say.  They  began  it,  but  we^ II  stay  and  finish  it.  Don't 
you  say  so?" 

"Oh,  I  suppose  it's  got  to  be  done  by  somebody." 

"Of  course  it  has !  And  the  bitterer  the  lessons  we 
give  them,  the  sooner  they'll  learn  the  great  truth.  Did 
you  notice  how  savage  that  rebel  lieutenant  v;^as?" 

"Wasn't  he! " 

"Slave-holding  seems  to  have  made  those  men  crazy 
with  pride  and  foolishness.  Now,  I  haven't  got  any- 
thing against  that  fellow,  but  I  can  see  that  nothing  but 
blood-letting  will  give  him  common  sense." 

"It's  no  use  to  go  easy  on  'em." 

"No.  Any  kind  of  half-way  fighting  would  be  sheer 
cruelty.  It  would  be  like  the  fellow  who  was  too  soft- 
hearted to  cut  his  dog's  tail  off  all  at  once,  so  he  cut 
it  off  an  inch  at  a  time." 

Chipstone  gave  a  half  laugh  at  this  illustration,  and 
they  reached  the  hospital— a  neighboring  barn  pressed 
into  the  service.  Long  rows  of  cots  covered  the  floor  in 
every  direction.  They  were  chiefly  occupied  with  sick 
men,  as  the  visitors  observed  as  they  passed  and  asked 
the  way  to  the  corner  devoted  to  the  wounded. 

The  great  doors  at  each  side  of  the  barn  were  wide  open, 
the  breeze  swept  through,  and  the  low-descending  sun 
shone  kindly  in  with  level  rays.  Attendants  moved  about 
here  and  there,  carrying  to  the  disabled  soldiers  such 
rude  comforts  as  a  field  hospital  affords.  Pale  faces 
looked  at  the  visitors,  and  two  or  three  voices  called  to 
them: 

"Cap,  got  any  newspapers?" 

Will  was  sorry  he  had  no  reading  matter  to  relieve 
their  tedium,  and  made  a  mental  note  of  what  should 
be  his  first  care  on  the  morrow. 

They  made  straight  for  the  cots  devoted  to  their  own 
9 


130  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

companions,  and  the  eyes  of  the  Company  K  boys  lighted 
up  at  their  approach,  and  even  the  wounded  confederates 
seemed  to  smile  at  their  late  antagonists.  Familiar 
voices  greeted  them:  "Hello,  Captain!  Hello,  Chip- 
stone!  " 

Both  gave  a  hearty  hand-clasp  to  each  prostrate  comrade. 
Clinton  Thrush  was  the  most  seriously  wounded,  and  an- 
other-7-the  man  who  had  his  hand  hurt — sat  by  his  side 
waving  a  leafy  branch  to  keep  the  flies  off  his  exposed 
and  bandaged  leg.  Clint  knew  them,  but  fever  had  come 
on,  and  he  talked  incessantly  and  incoherently,  in  a  voice 
of  weakness  and  excitement. 

"Bully  for  you!  Bully  for  all!  Company  K  in  the 
corn-field.  Says  Mac,  'Forward,  boys!'  and  I  heard  him 
say  'Forward  boys!'  and  I  did  forward  boys!  Cap,  I'll 
leave  it  to  you  if  I  didn't  forward  boys  when  he  sung 
out  'Forward  boj's!'  First  thing  I  knew  I  didn't  know 
anything!  Give  a  man  all  the  appellations  in  the  world 
and  take  away  his  consignments,  and  what' 11  he  offer  at 
next?  But  then!  Aleck  is  my  brother.  That's  nothing 
against  him.  Mac  had  no  call  to  be  hard  on  Aleck  for 
being  my  brother.  Oh,  Captain — you'll  stand  by  Aleck, 
if  he  is  my  brother,  won't  you?  Don't  let  Mac  hurt 
him  for  being  my  brother.  Him  an'  I  are  all  the  boys 
mother's  got — except  the  girls.  Oh,  mother!  Oh, 
mother!"     And  he  began  to  cry  in  a  foolish  fashion. 

To  divert  his  thoughts,  and  if  possible  calm  his  shat- 
tered nerves.  Will  began  in  a  gentle  voice: 
"  Our  God  he  saw  us  from  on  high." 

And  almost  on  the  instant  the  poor  fellow  took  up  the 
melody,  and  in  a  voice  like  his  own  clear  tenor,  only 
sublimated,  as  if  made  of  the  breath  of  Heaven  itself, 
he  sang  and  sang  until  every  other  sound  was  hushed 
into  silence;    and  still  the  sweet,  touching  strain  soared 


132  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

aloft  and  floated  out  into  the  fading,  dying  day.  Never 
afterward,  never  as  long  as  he  lives,  can  Will  sing  that 
strain;  nor  can  he  even  hear  it  sung  without  a  choking 
in  his  throat  and  a  rush  of  tears  to  his  eyes. 

An  attendant  brought  the  sufferer  a  soothing  drink,  and 
he  became  calm  and  quiet.  Will  let  go  his  hand  and 
turned  to  talk  with  the  surgeon,  who  was  attending  the 
confederate  wounded. 

"Captain,"  said  the  doctor,  "I'm  glad  to  see  you.  The 
boys  are  all  doing  well  except  Clinton.  We  are  going 
to  try  to  save  his  life  and  maybe  his  leg,  but  I  don't 
know  about  it.  If  he  were  at  home,  in  his  natural  cli- 
mate and  surroundings,  he  would  be  all  right.  But  here 
— blood  thinned  by  hot  weather,  hard  work,  and  poor 
food — " 

"Why  not  send  him  home  at  once,  doctor?" 

"Oh,  of  course  we  can't  send  every  wounded  man 
h?)me.  Ambulances  can't  be  spared,  nor  attendants  pro- 
vided for  individiial  enlisted  men,  sick  or  wounded. 
They  have  to  be  treated  together." 

"Great  heavens!  Must  the  brave  boys  stay  here  and 
die  when  they  might  go  home  and  live?" 

"Well,  how  would  you  fix  it?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!  Any  way  to  save  lives  and  limbs. 
The  whole  S-tate  of  Illinois  ought  to  come  down  for  them 
if  necessary! " 

"The  state  won't  do  it,  and  can't.  If  she'll  send  us 
well  men  to  take  their  places  when  we  lose  them,  that's 
all  we  can  ask." 

"When  will  you  decide  about  Clinton?" 

"In  the  moring  we  shall  know.  We  won't  amputate 
if  we  can  save' the  leg,  and  we  won't  amputate  if  it 
isn't  going  to  be  any  use." 

"How — any  use?" 


HONOR  AND  OBLIVION.  I33 

"Well,  if  he  can't  live  anyhow.  In  Mexico  we  didn't 
have  much  luck  with  large  stumps.  So  much  against 
the  patient;  so  many  died  of  trouble  with  the  stump — 
they  call  it  blood-poisoning  nowadays — that  we  got  to 
feel  as  if  we  might  as  well  let  them  die  without  the  knife 
as  after  it." 

"Clinton's  brother  Aleck  ought  to  be  with  him." 

"Well,  why  not  have  him  detailed  as  hospital  nurse?" 

"The  very  thing!      I'll  attend  to  it  to-night." 

The  doctor  smiled  enigmatically,  but  did  not  say  any- 
thing more.  Fargeon  spent  the  next  hour  passing  from 
cot  to  cot;  chatting  with  the  men,  making  memoranda 
of  their  little  needs  and  wishes,  comforting  and  encour- 
aging them  in  every  way;  his  own  spirit  growing  calmer 
and  happier  in  this  congenial  task.  It  was  the  pleasantest 
hour  of  his  day,  this  stormy  Sunday. 

"Here's  where  I  belong,"  said  he  to  himself.  "Saving 
life,  instead  of  destroying  it;  giving  comfort  and  consola- 
tion; making  peace,  instead  of  war.  Blessed  are  the 
peacemakers.  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  had  such  a  job  as  this 
instead  of  that  other — that  infernal  corn-field!" 

As  they  walked  back,  Chip  said:  "What  did  the  doc- 
tor say  about  Clint?" 

"Very  doubtful." 

"Which,  leg  or  life?" 

"Both.  If  the  fever  goes  off,  the  leg  must  probably 
come  off;  and  if  they  amputate  the  leg,  he' 11  have  a  poor 
chance  to  get  over  it." 

"Great  God!      Is  that  so?" 

"Yes.  Likely  that  bullet  has  silenced  Clinton  Thrush's 
singing  for  good." 

"Curse  the  bullet — and  the  man  that  fired  it!  " 

"And  those  who  sent  him  to  fire  it,"  added  Fargeon. 

As  they  walked  on  in  silence  he  said  to  himself: 


134 


THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 


"I  guess  Chip  is  all  right  again." 

When  he  spoke  to  Mac  about  sending  Aleck  to  serve  in 
the  hospital,  the  lieutenant  gave  a  snort  of  dissatisfac- 
tion. 

"Why,  Aleck  Thrush  is  one  of  the  best  men  in  the 
company!  If  they  call  on  us  for  a  hospital  detail  we  can 
pick  out  men  who  will  be  no  loss;  but  Aleck  Thrush — ! 
The  hospital's  the  place  for  the  trash  that  haven't  got 
snap  enough  to  fight — the  grannies  in  trousers — but  Aleck, 
he's  a  man!" 

"All  the  same,  Company  K  won't  keep  him  away  from 
his  brother  while  I  have  anything  to  say  about  it." 
("But  I  guess  I  won't  go  into  the  hospital  service  myself 
just  at  present.") 

Next  morning  was  rainy,  but  the  requisition  in 
Company  K  for  an  enlisted  man  to  serve  as  hospital  attend- 
ant came  promptly,  and  Aleck  was  sent.  He  carried 
with  him  every  old  newspaper  there  was  in  the  whole 
brigade.  The  poor  fellow's  trembling  delight  was  a 
sight  to  see.  He  sang  for  joy  and  set  off  for  Clinton's 
bedside  running  like  a  deer. 

"See  him  scoot!  Aleck  always  was  the  beater  to  run; 
he  beat  us  all  in  a  foot-race  like  we  was  standing  still; 
but  I'll  bet  this  time  he's  a-beatin'   himself!" 

Speed  uselessly  made.  Aleck  might  as  well  have  run  in 
the  opposite  direction.  Before  he  reached  the  barn-hospi- 
tal he  met  four  men  carrying  a  stretcher,  using  their  dis- 
engaged hands  in  restraining  the  weak,  frantic  struggles 
of  Company  K's  first  martyr — the  brave  fellow,  the  good 
man,  the  sweet  singer,  De  Witt  Clinton  Thrush.  His 
ravings  had  become  a  terror  and  a  danger  to  the  other 
sick  and  wounded,  and  he  was  being  carried  away  out  of 
their  hearing. 

"Christ!     Is    that    my    brother?     Here,     Clint!      Old 


HONOR    AND    OBLIVION.  I35 

boy,  don't  ye  know  Aleck?  There,  there,  there,  there!" 
The  soothing  tones  reached  the  sufferer's  ears  and  heart, 
and  he  threw  his  arms  around  Aleck's  neck  and  tried  to 
climb  off  the  stretcher  by  their  help,  while  the  wounded 
leg  bled  afresh. 

Expelled  from  the  hospital,  surrounded  by  sigh- 
ing woods  through  which  the  rain  dropped  drearily,  no 
shelter  in  the  world  open  to  him  to  die  in,  home  and 
mother  and  sisters  five  hundred  miles  away! 

Late  the  next  afternoon  Aleck  crept  back  to  camp  with 
a  piece  of  board  he  had  somewhere  found;  and  all  night 
he  hacked  and  carved  at  it  until  he  had  made  a  deep- 
cut  and  legible  inscription  to  distinguish  his  brother's 
lonely  grave.  Our  forces  did  not  hold  this  position;  and 
after  we  retired  it  is  probable  that  some  enemy  found 
the  spot  and  destroyed  the  simple  record,  or  perhaps 
the  wood-fires  burned  it,  or  hogs  rooted  it  up.  But 
what  difference  did  that  make?  Nobody  ever  went  back 
to  look  for  it. 


A  mail  from  home!  Oh,  joy!  Oh,  love!  Oh,  curi- 
osity! Oh,  wild  excitement!  In  every  place  that  offers 
anything  like  privacy  in  the  rude  publicity  of  camp-life 
eager  faces  bend  over  letters.  Lavish  dimes  (from  the 
private  soldier's  scanty  purse)  are  spent  for  every  news- 
paper that  has  reached  the  sutler's  tent  for  sale. 

"Dear,  dear,  dear  soldier — otherwise  known  as  William 
Fargeon,  captain  of  Company  K.  *  *  *  To  tell  you 
what  happens  (of  interest)  in  Chicago  while  you  all  are 
away  making  the  only  news  we  care  about,  wouldn't  take 
a  page.  To  tell  you  all  that  doesn't  happen  would  take 
a  quire,  a  ream,  a  prairie  of  foolscap.     *     *     * 

"Dear  old  Colin  Thorburn  comes  often.  I  think  he 
feels  as  if  he  were  responsible  for  your    leaving  us,  and 


136  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

calls  as  a  kind  of  expiatory  duty.     Last    night    he    sang 

* 'There  is  nae  luck  aboot  the  hoose, 
There  is  nae  luck  at  a', 
There  is  nae  luck  aboot  the  hoose 
Syne  our  gude  mon's  awa," 

in  a  cracked  old  voice,  so  gentle  and  sympathethic  that 
it  wrung  tears  from  the  eyes  of  a  poor  goose  who  is  too, 
too  fond  of  you. 

"I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  woman  is  an  ab- 
surdly incomplete  being.  I  think  that  if  Eve  had  been 
made  before  Adam  she  would  have  spent  all  her  time 
moping  about  the  garden,  crying,  'Wh}' — is  this  all? 
Nothing  but  sun,  moon  and  stars,  sky  and  earth,  ani- 
mals, flowers,  fruits,  and  77ieP  (She  wouldn't  know  gram- 
mar yet,  poor  thing!)  'I  don't  think  much  of  such  a 
show  as  this,  and  I  want  my  money  back.'    *     *     * 

"Oh!  Merciful  Heaven!  Here  comes  the  Fulcrum  say- 
ing that  the  Sixth  has  had  a  fight  and  that  some  men  were 
wounded!  Oh,  I  hope  you  were  not  in  it!  I  am  sure 
you  were  not  hurt  or  they  would  have  said  so.  They  only 
mention  Col.  Puller,  and  say  that  he  was  not  hurt.  How 
my  heart  beats!  I  hope  you  were  not  in  the  fight  at 
all — I  don't  know  why — it  is  a  useless  thing  to  wish  or  to 
hope.     It  is  what  you  went  for! 

"How  unhappy  I  am!  I  am  leaning  back  so  that  my 
tears  shall  not  fall  on  the  paper.  There — I  have  leaned 
forward  so  that  some  should  fall  on  it.  Do  you  see  those 
two  crinkly  spots?  Those  are  tears,  dear,  shed  for  you. 
Now  I  must  stop  before  I  write  down  past  them. 
"Your  sorrowing,  loving, 

"Sally." 

As  soon  as  Fargeon  could  look  at  Sally's  letter  with 
any  eyes  but  those  of  tenderness  and  happiness,  he  began 
to  wonder  at  the  fact  that  there  should  be    any  doubt  as 


HONOR    AND    OBLIVION. 


137 


to  whether  he  had  been  wounded,  or  had  even  been  pres- 
ent at  the  skirmish.  He  secured  a  copy  of  the  paper 
which  had  sent  down  the  correspondent  whom  he  had  met. 
He  got  it,  he  read  the  narrative  it  contained — read  it 
with  amazement. 


"did  we  lick  'em,  captain?" 

PAGE    lOI. 


CHAPTER     XI. 


CHICAGO  AGAIN. 


T  the  time  of  the  war,  Chicago  was 
already  great — even  down  to  her 
daily  press.  It  was  the  Fulcrum 
which  had  sent  forth  the  reporter 
whom  Fargeon  had  met  and  had 
.„.  offended;  and  he  pounced  upon  the 
r]^  Fulcrum  with  all  the  eagerness 
of  a  young  citizen-soldier  look- 
ing for  the  home-picture  of  his 
maiden  fight. 

First  there  was  a  column  and 
more  of  the  'sword-presentation 
ceremonies,"  including  a  full  report  of  the  "impromptu 
remarks  of  our  correspondent."  Then  followed  a  short 
statement  of  the  "affair."  This  is  the  substance  of  the 
tale: 


Col.  Y.  R.  Puller,  of  the  Sixth,  had  been  surprised  by 
a  demand  for  a  detail  of  skirmishers  "to  find  the  enemy," 
on  the  very  morning  after  his  arrival.  But  when  did 
that  brave  patriot  ever  hesitate  at  the  call  of  duty?  He 
instantly  deployed  a  company  for  the  service,  perilous 
and  bloody  though  it  promised  to  be,  and  as  the  result 
showed  it  was  destined  to  be  in  fact.  And  right  well 
was  that  service  performed!      The  brave  colonel  "found 

138 


CHICAGO   AGAIN.  139 

the  enem)^, "  as  he  had  been  ordered  to  do — found  them 
in  force,  not  only  infantry,  but  artillery!  Yet  he  man- 
aged by  his  admirable  arrangements  and  gallant  fighting, 
to  inflict  loss  far  in  excess  of  what  he  sustained.  Four 
rebels  were  left  dead  on  the  field;  five  prisoners,  most 
of  them  wounded,  fell  into  our  hands.  Including  the 
dead  and  wounded  carried  off  by  the  retreating  foe,  their 
loss  could  not  have  been  less  than  forty  or  fifty,  while 
our  entire  loss  was  only  five  wounded.  Fortunately  Col. 
Puller  was  not  himself  among  the  wounded,  for  the 
army  and  the  country  could  ill  spare  ofiEicers  of  his  cali- 
ber. Whenever  Col.  Y.  R.  Puller  leaves  the  field  it 
should  be  at  the  call  of  his  fellow-citizens  of  the  nmth 
district,  who  think  that  he  can  do  more  service  to  the 
great  cause  in  Congress,  battling  the  fire  in  the  rear, 
fighting  the  insidious  enemy  at  home,  than  at  the  front, 
facing  the  more  honorable  and  less  dangerous  foes  in  the 
field. 

That  was  all.  The  gentlemanly  dispenser  of  fame  and 
maker  of  history  had  avenged  his  affront  by  omitting  all 
mention  of  the  real  fighters,  wounded  and  unwounded,  in 
his  words  sent  home  for  the  eager  perusal  of  their  fami- 
lies, friends,  and  neighbors.  He  had  managed  to  wound 
the  unwounded,  and  to  withhold  balm  from  the  hurts  of 
the  disabled. 


That  particular  movement  southward,  wherein  Com- 
pany K  took  its  baptism  of  fire,  turned  out  to  be  "one  of 
our  failures,"  The  brigade  was  ordered  back  to  Cairo, 
and  back  it  journeyed,  leaving  to  our  enemies  our  foot- 
prints and  the  graves  of  cur  dead. 

Ill  the  twenty-mile  march  it  made  to  reach  the  steam- 
boats, Company  K  was  again  honored  with  the  post  of 
danger  and  distinction,  this  time  the  rear  guard.     Con- 


140  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

federate  cavalry  followed  us  sharply,  and  for  many  hours 
our  boys  kept  up  a  running  fight;  suffering  some  loss, 
but  inflicting  more  on  the  brave  southern  horsemen, 
many  of  whom  were  seen  to  fall,  and  some  of  whom, 
dashing  recklessly  through  our  line,  were  "gobbled  up," 
horses  and  all;  the  men  to  be  marched  in  as  prisoners 
and  the  horses  to  be  used  to  carry  our  wounded.  The 
temptation  to  describe  this  day's  fighting  must  be 
resisted;  because,  in  cold  blood  and  black  and  white,  it 
would  seem  to  a  reader  too  much  like  the  corn-field  job 
to  bear  the  needful  detail. 

So,  too,  the  resumption  of  camp  life  at  Cairo.  As  the 
men  said:  "Same  old  story,  only  wuss  an'  wuss,  an' 
more  of   it." 

When  the  snow  was  half  mud,  and  the  mud  was  half 
water,  and  the  three  were  combined  into  an  enemy  more 
invincible  than  an  army  with  banners,  an  enemy  which 
not  merely  invested  but  infested  Cairo,  Will  Fargeon 
yielded  to  the  pressure  of  circumstances  and  of  home 
urgency,  took  a  leave  of  absence  and  the  noon  train  for 
Chicago. 

What  a  lot  of  miles!  365 — one  for  every  day  in  the 
year — but  they  were  homeward  miles,  and  sweet  to  the 
soul.  Did  a  fellow-passenger  yearn  for  communion  of 
spirit?  Well,  it  was  grudgingly  given,  for  the  moments 
of  anticipation  were  too  near  absolute  fruition  to  be 
wasted  in  talk  when  fancy  might  be  running  riot  in 
thoughts  of  to-morrow. 

"Centralia!  Twenty  minutes  for  supper! "  Snow, 
mud,  darkness,  glaring  refreshment-room. 

"Rosbeefmuttonchopscoldamfish!  "  Not  alluring  to  the 
common  Christian,  but  quite  so  to  the  camp-weary  cam- 
paigner— if  they  would  only  hurry  through  it  and  move 
on! 


CHICAGO  AGAIN.  I4I 

Rumble,  rumble,  rumble;  sit  awhile,  stand  awhile, 
walk  awhile — always  rumble,  rumble,  rumble,  and  always 
the  rosy  dream.  Not  an  unhappy  minute  except  when 
stopping  at  stations.   (Then  rises  a  chorus  of  snores.) 

Nine  o'clock;  time  to  wind  his  watch.  Ten  o'clock, 
eleven  o'clock.  Already?  It  seems  impossible  that 
these  hours  should  be  so  full  of  delight  and  yet  pass  so 
quickly.  Midnight — "Tolono!  Ten  minutes  for  refresh- 
ments! '  He  crossed  the  dripping  platform,  shining 
under  the  lamps,  and  smiled  as  he  heard  the  man  ahead 
of  him  give  the  wholesome  order:  "Piece  o'  pie,  cup 
o'  coffee,  and  a  paper  o'  chewin'  tobacker."  Then  the 
long  ten  minutes  of  stop  came  to  an  end  and  the  short 
hours  of  progress  began  again. 

Well,  there  was  a  to-morrow  coming — a  Chicago  to-mor- 
row. He  ought  at  least  to  try  for  a  little  sleep.  Gripsack 
pillow  is  soft  enough,  army  overcoat  is  warm  enough, 
double  seat  is  long  enough — but  heart  is  not  calm  enough. 
There  is  too  much  joy  in  waking  to  get  to  sleep. 
Rumble,  rumble,  rumble;  more  walking  up  and  down 
the  long-drawn  aisle  of  the  passenger  coach.  There 
were  a  mother  and  child  who  had  got  on  at  Tolono;  and 
the  baby  cried  until  the  mother  was  forced  to  cry  too. 
Very  good — here  was  Will's  chance — he  always  was 
lucky!  So  he  took  the  child  without  asking  leave,  raised 
it  high  in  his  stronj?  arms  and  resumed  his  walk.  Not 
another  sound  from  the  infant;  it  was  fast  asleep.  The 
mother  would  have  taken  it  from  him;  but  no,  she  must 
put  up  her  feet,  cover  her  head  in  her  shawl,  and  sleep,  too. 

"Kankakee!  "  Only  fifty-five  miles  more;  of  course  it 
would  scarcely  pay  to  go  to  sleep  now,  so  he  would  sit 
down,  make  himself  into  cradle-shape  for  the  baby's  sake, 
and  watch  the  snow-flakes  as  they  flitted  past  the  window, 
showing  for  an  instant  in  the  light  of  the  car  lamps. 


142  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

What's  all  this?  Why — why  it's  broad  daylight,  and 
the  mother,  up  and  refreshed,  is  trying  to  remove  the 
sleeping  baby  from  his  arms  without  waking  either  of 
them ! 

The  late  winter  sunrise  is  shining  over  the  black  and 
wrinkled  face  of  Lake  Michigan  as  he  enters  his  native 
city.  Sweet,  sharp,  frosty  air  fills  his  nostrils  and  re- 
freshes his  heart.  When  he  alights  from  the  cars  he 
stamps  hard  on  the  frozen  soil;  joyful  to  feel  that  it 
does  not  sink  mushily  under  his  heel.  He  hears  the 
ringing,  steely  sound  of  sleigh-bells  in  the  air.  Inside 
the  station  he  sees  men  capped  and  muffled  against  the 
cold,  and  through  the  doors  he  catches  sight  of  horses' 
heads  all  white  with  their  congealed  breath.  All  is 
fresh,  cold,  wholesome,  and  exhilarating! 

After  caring  for  his  scanty  luggage  he  turns  up  the 
high  collar  of  his  long  blue  army  overcoat  with  its  broad- 
shouldered  cape,  seizes  his  sword  and  sword  belt  with 
one  hand,  pulls  down  his  kepi  with  the  other,  and  pre- 
pares to  face  the  sweet,  dry  frost. 

"Richmond  House!"  "Adams  House!''  "Briggs 
House!"  "Sherman  House!  "  "7>r(f-mont  House!  "  "Mas- 
sasoit  House!"  shout  the  representatives  of  those  hos- 
telries. 

"My  house!"  cries  the  deep,  sonorous,  clerical  voice  of 
Mr.  Penrose,  who  comes  pushing  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  closely  followed  by  a  lithe  little  figure  all  in  furs. 

The  sword  falls  clanging  to  the  ground,  for  the  indis- 
creet preacher  seizes  one  of  his  hands,  and  somebody  has 
to  have  the  other!  Somebody  wants  to  call  him  her  sol- 
dier— her  hero — her  own  love;  v/hile  he  wants  to  take  some- 
body bodily  into  his  arms  and  hold  her  there  forever- 
more. 

For  manifest   reasons  all  these  natural  and  blameless 


CHICAGO  AGAIN.  1 43 

wishes  must  be  suppressed.  Even  the  silent  hand-clasp 
and  the  long,  loving  look  do  not  pass  unnoticed.  Cor- 
dial glances  and  sympathizing  sm.iles  center  upon  the 
little  group,  telling  that  more  than  one  looker-on  takes 
delight  in  the  joy  of  the  returned  volunteer  and  his 
trembling,  tearful,  smiling  welcomer. 

"Oh,  you  bearded  warrior  !  I  didn't  know  you!  You 
bronzed  veteran — I  want  you  to  be  introduced  to  me 
again! " 

"If  I  am  changed,  it  is  only  on  the  outside.  My  heart 
is  just  the  same."  Then  to  Mr.  Penrose:  "Oh,  my 
dear  friend,  don't  trouble  yourself  with  those  things — 
there,  the  sword  is  falling  out  of  the  scabbard — let  me 
relieve  you  of  it. " 

"No,  no!  -I  am  proud  to  carry  it!"  And  getting  the 
weapon  right  end  up  at  last,  he  marched  forth  in  triumph. 
"Here's  the  covered  sleigh.  You  and  Sally  can  ride 
inside  and  I  will  drive." 

"There,  there,  Capt.  Fargeon!  That  will  do.  How  bold 
soldiers  are,  to  be  sure!  " 

"But  I  may  keep  my  arm  around  you,  surely!  " 

"Well — if  you'll  be  very  discreet — since  arms  are  your 
profession.      But,  oh,  how  changed  you  are!  " 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so.  Either  I  have  changed  or  the 
world  has  changed;  all  looks  so  different  to  me  in  these 
few  months.     All  but  you,  my  sweet  love! "       *       *       * 

"Now,  now — didn't  I  tell  you  to  be  discreet?" 

"How  am  I  changed?" 

"Oh — take  your  face  further  away,  so  that  I  can  see 
you.  There !  You  are  very  brown,  and  very  thin.  A 
deep  wrinkle  has  come  between  your  eyebrows;  and  your 
eyes,  when  they  are  not  actually  smiling,  are  sad.  Your 
beard  and    mustache   hide   your    mouth,   but    from   your 


144  "^^^  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

voice  I'm  sure  your  lips  have  grown  grave,  and — almost 
stern." 

"My  eyes  have  looked  on  blood  and  death.  My  ears 
have  heard  awful  sounds — minie  bullets — the  screaming 
of  shells  and  the  groans  of  dying  men." 

He  turns  away  his  face  and  a  far-away  look  comes  into 
his  eyes  as  the  past  comes  back  to  him. 

Sally  puts  up  her  little  mittened  hand  and  pulls  his 
face  toward  her  again,  saying  in  a  soothing  tone: 

"Never  mind  now,  dear!  Never  mind  now.  Forget  it 
all  for  awhile."     And  he  gladly  obeys  her. 


What  a  breakfast  Mrs.  Penrose  gave  him!  How  good 
the  home-made  bread  and  sweet  butter  tasted!  So  good 
that  Will  wanted  to  make  an  entire  meal  on  them.  And 
then  when  the  broiled  whitefishcame  on  it  was  so  mirac- 
ulously delicious  that  he  was  sorry  he  had  eaten  anything 
else. 

Yes,  the  world  was  changed.  Everybody  looked  only  at 
him,  listened  only  to  him.  The  boy — spes  gregis  in  the 
Penrose  fold — never  took  his  eyes  off  him,  and  never 
opened  his  lips  except  to  express  silent  awe  and  wonder 
— and  to  eat  when  he  happened  to  think  of  it.  Even  the 
irrepressible  Lydia  was  abashed  for  once  in  her  life. 

Lydia,  when  he  saw  her  last,  had  scarcely  yet  got  used 
to  long  dresses,  which  she  said  made  her  feel  as  if  her 
skirts  were  coming  off.  Now  she  had  blossomed  into  a 
girl  as  pretty  as  her  sister  was  beautiful.  Then  she  had 
been  still  "Bunny;"  and  even  yet,  as  of  old,  her  dainty  upper 
lip  usually  showed  those  two  dainty  upper  teeth  in  a  rab- 
bit-like fashion.  But  now  she  was  "Lydia"  (except  when 
some  one  forgot,  or  wished  to  tease  her),  and  made  spas- 
modic efforts  to  subdue  that  rebellious  lip — to  "hold  her 
lip,"  as  Spes  Gregis  rudely    and    slangily    expressed  it. 


CHICAGO  AGAIN.  I45 

She  had  also  nearly  outgrown  her  old  condition  of  chronic 
protest  against  the  domination  of  the  masterful  Sara; 
so  calm,  so  indomitable  because  irresistible,  to  her 
younger  sister  as  well  as  to  the  rest  of  the  world. 
Having  a  sphere  of  her  own,  she  could  let  Sally  reign  su- 
preme in  hers. 

"Well,  Miss  Bunny,  how  has  your  world  gone  on  since 
I  went  away?" 

Lydia's  lips  suddenly  closed,  and  she  began  looking  all 
about  the  floor  and  even  under  the  table.  The  others 
laughed,  and  Will  asked: 

"What  is  she  looking  for?" 

"I  am  looking  for  Bunny,  Capt.  William  Fargeon.  I 
thought  you  had  perhaps  lost  your  pet  rabbit." 

"I  hope  I  haven't  lost  my  pet  little  girl." 

"Well,  if  you  haven't  you  soon  will  if  you  call  her  by 
a  horrid  nickname." 

"Any  name  would  be  sweet  that  had  ever  been  associ- 
ated with  you." 

Lydia  tossed  her  lovely,  curly  head,  but  deigned  to 
smile  as  she  replied: 

"You  had  to  say  it,  but  I  thank  you  all  the  same. 
Please  try  Lydia,  and  see  if  the  rule  about  sweetness 
won't  hold  good." 

"The  fact  is.  Will,"  said  Sally,  "I  favored  the  name- 
reform  movement  because  I  have  seen  how  bad  it  is  to 
grow  old  with  a  nickname.  We  know  two  middle-aged 
ladies,  regular  mothers  in  Israel,  who  are  called  'Chips' 
and  'Pinky'  and  always  will  be,  by  reason  of  the  early 
errors  of  fond,  foolish,  misguided  parents." 

'And  Bunny  blacked  her  teeth,"  cried  Spes   Gregis. 

This  brought  new  laughter  and  the  explanation  that 
Lydia,  in  despair  at  the  obstinate  forgetfulness    of   her 

JO 


146  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

family  and  friends,  had  daily  stained  her  teeth  with  ink 
until  she  thought  the  reform  was  effected. 

"Now,  Brother  Fargeon,  I  presume  you  would  like  me 
to  give  you  a  full  account  of  the  progress  of  the  Lord's 
work  in  this  part  of  His  vineyard." 

"Oh,  I  have  no  doubt  it  is  going  on  as  it  should." 

"To  begin  with  your  own  especial  garden,  the  Sabbath- 
school,  you  will  remember  that  last  year,  just  previous  to 
our  Christmas-tree,  the  average  attendance  rose  to  three 
hundred  and  eighty-four  and  a  quarter;  and,  after  the 
festivity,  fell  off  to  seventy-eight  and  two-thirds,  a  loss 
of  eighty  per  cent.  This  year  I  am  grieved  to  say  that 
the  highest  average  before  the  tree  only  rose  to  two  hun- 
dred and  six  and  two-fifths;  but  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to 
state  that  the  proportionate  decrease  was  less,  following 
the  festivity,  than  the  year  before,  being  only  to  fifty- 
two  and  one-third,  which,  throwing  off  the  fraction  of  a 
child—" 

"But,  papa,  why  do  you  throw  off  the  fraction  of  a 
child?     "Isn't  a  third  of  a  child  worth  saving?" 

"Lydia,  my  daughter,  no  levity,  if  you  please.  Let  me 
see,  where  was  I? " 

"You  were  cutting  up  a  child  into  fractions." 

"Lydia!  " 

"Call  her  Bunny,  father,  and  see  how  quick  she'll 
stop!  "  advised  the  experienced  Spes  Gregis,  unheeded. 

"But  perhaps  it  was  a  fractious  child, "  persisted  Lydia. 

In  the  laugh  which  followed  this  jest  Sally  managed  to 
"head  off"  the  earnest  pastor  from  his  salvation  statis- 
tics, saying: 

"Well,  papa,  the  amount  of  it  is  that  the  Sunday- 
school  doesn't  do  as  well  as  it  did  when Capt'n  Fargeon 
was  Superintendent  Fargeon.  But  I,  for  one,  would 
rather  have  him  captain." 


CHICAGO  AGAIN.  I47 

"Doubtless,  Sally.  He  who  doeth  all  things  well  will 
not  leave  Himself  without  a  witness,  nor  let  His  sheaves 
go  ungarnered,  because  one  of  His  servants  is  called  to 
another  field.     But  to  resume — " 

"Of  course,"  said  Fargeon.  "He  can  get  along  without 
me — or  any  of  us — if  He  tries  hard." 

A  silence  that  followed  this  suggested  to  Fargeon  that 
such  expressions  jarred  on  their  reverent  ears,  and  he 
hastened  to  add: 

"It  would  be  the  height  of  arrogance  to  count  one's 
self  necessary  to  the  work  of  the  church.  Now,  Mr.  Pen- 
rose, did  you  think  of  taking  a  walk  city-ward  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"Why,  yes;  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  accompany  you. 
And  we  can  continue  our  talk  on  this  great  theme  as  we 
walk.     Let  us  sally  forth." 

"Going  to  leave  us  already?"  cried  Sara,  in  pleading 
tones.  "You  ought  to  think  of  Sally  first,  and  sally 
forth  afterward." 

"Oh,  ho!  "  cried  Spes  Gregis.  "That  joke  came  over 
in  the  ark.  We  will  soon  be  hearing  how  all  the  pigs  in 
the  pen  rose." 

"Stop  squealing,  littlest  pig,"  observed  the  polite 
Lydia. 

"Business  first,  pleasure  afterward,  Sally.  Being  here 
with  you — with  all  of  you — is  too  joyful!  I  must  dilute 
it  a  little,  so  as  not  to  grow  drunken  with  delight." 

"If  I  were  invited  to  walk  with  you — " 

"But,  Sally,"  interposed  her  mother;  "your  daily 
tasks — " 

"Oh,  mamma,  duty  is  nowhere  with  me  to  day!  I  am 
not  a  pattern;  at  this  moment  I  am  a  reprobate  !  I  am 
utterly  bent  on  a  wicked,  violent,  unscrupulous,  outra- 
geous course  of  turpitude!      I  will  not  sweep  and  dust  the 


148  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

parlor,  and  I  will  not  give  Lj^dia  her  music  lesson,  and 
I  will  go  out  like  a  raging  lion  seeking  whom  I  may  de- 
vour somebody !  I  will  walk  down  town  with  papa  and 
Capt.  Fargeon,  even  though  I  have  to  be  brought  back 
in  fetters  and  manacles!  " 

"Fetters  and  manacles  are  the  same,  Sally." 

"Bunny! — middle-sized  pig! — don't  talk  on  subjects 
you  know  nothing  about !  I  am  usually  harmless,  but 
dangerous  when  roused.  Papa,  wait  till  I  put  on  my 
things." 

"But,  Sally  dear,"  began  her  mother,  between  laugh- 
ing and  fault-finding. 

'Avaunt!  Exemplary  person,  I  know  you  not!"  And 
she  threw  up  her  little  hand  like  a  tragedy  queen  or  a 
statuette  of  liberty,  and  ran  out  of  the  room. 

'It  is  weeks  and  months — years,  I  might  say — since 
we  have  seen  our  dear  angel  so  gay,"  said  the  minister. 
"You  must  make  allowances  for  her,  captain." 

"Allowances!"  cried  Will,  and  then  paused,  at  a  loss 
for  words  to  say  how  irresistibly  lovely  she  seemed  to 
him. 


Down  the  old  familiar  plank-walk  they  sped  through 
the  bracing  air.  The  boards  cracked  and  resounded 
under  their  tread.  The  sun  sparkled  on  the  icy  waters 
of  Lake  Michigan.  Each  of  the  men  gave  an  arm  to  the 
young  woman  (the  walk  being  slipper}^  with  frost),  and 
her  feet  scarcely  touched  the  ground,  her  steps  keeping 
pace  with  the  dancing  of  her  happ3^  innocent  heart. 
She  had  long  been  accustomed  to  feel  the  ej^es  of  men 
(and  women,  too,)  constantly  fixed  on  her  exquisite  face 
as  they  approached.  Now  she  was  delighted  that  it  was 
Will  in  his  uniform  whom  all  looked  at  with  flattering, 
welcoming  attention. 


CHICAGO  AGAIN.  149 

And  Fargeon?  Well,  he  was  far  from  a  vain  man,  but 
it  was  not  a  disagreeable  thing  to  find  face  after  face, 
whether  of  friend  or  stranger,  man  or  woman,  glowing 
and  smiling  at  him.  Some  men  and  boys,  meeting  his 
answering  eyes,  took  off  their  hats  and  swung  them  in 
flattering  salutation.  Those  who  recognized  him  shouted 
his  name.  One  elderly  woman — perhaps  a  soldier's 
mother — seized  his  disengaged  hand  and  detained  him 
long  enough  to  press  it  to  her  veiled  face,  and  then  hur- 
ried on  without  a  word.  A  little  school-girl,  sachel  on 
arm,  after  he  had  passed  her,  made  haste  and  thrust 
her  mittened  hand  into  his  glove  and  trotted  by  his  side, 
looking  up  at  him  in  undisguised  admiration.  By  and 
by,  when  they  came  to  Quincy  street,  she  seized  his 
hand  with  both  hers  and  hung  back,  saying,  "Good-b3'e, 
soldier!  "  He  stooped  and  kissed  his  rosy  admirer,  and 
when  he  walked  on  his  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  Said  he 
huskily: 

"Sally — it  almost  pays  for  all!" 

The  happy  Sara  could  only  press  her  handkerchief  to 
her  eyes  and  bury  her  face  in  his  sheltering  cape. 

They  turned  westward  from  Michigan  avenue,  and  as 
they  passed  Dearborn  street  they  came  upon  a  little 
crowd  clustered  about  two  men  struggling  and  fighting 
in  the  snow  in  front  of  a  grog-shop.  A  poor  w^oman  was 
screaming:      "Oh,  he'll  kill  him!      He's  killin'  my  man!  " 

"Where  are  the  police?"  angrily  cried  I\Ir.  Penrose  as 
he  edged  awa3^ 

"One  moment,  Sally,"  said  Fargeon,  disengaging  his 
arm. 

"Oh,  Will!  Come  away!  Let  us  find  a  policeman — 
let  the  police  attend  to  that." 

But  he  paid  no  attention  to  her;  elbowed  his  way 
into  the  crowd;   thrust  aside  the  inefficient,  fussing  spec- 


150  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

tators,  all  afraid  to  interfere;  seized  the  uppermost  man, 
who  was  raining  blows  on  the  bloody,  averted  face  of  his 
prostrate  foe — seized  him  with  both  hands  and  dragged 
him  off,  and  with  help  of  knee  and  foot  flung  him  into 
the  street. 

"Go  on  now!  Go  on  about  your  business!"  he  said 
sternly,  advancing  tov/ard  the  fellow  as  he  struggled  to 
his  feet. 

The  wretch  cursed  him  and  made  as  if  he  would  have 
jumped  at  him;  but  the  crowd,  emboldened  by  leader- 
ship, closed  around  the  fellow  and  forced  him  away,  one 
of  his  friends  saying  in  an  expostulating  tone  and  a  rich 
brogue: 

"Arrah,  Dinny,  go  on  wid  yel  Wud  ye  be  afther 
shthrikin'  the  so'jer?" 

Will  looked  back  to  see  that  the  wife  and  her  friends 
were  taking  the  vanquished  combatant  out  of  harm's 
way,  and  then  hurried  on  to  rejoin  Sally  and  her  father. 

"I  think  the  constituted  authorities  are  bound  to  deal 
with  such  things,"  said  Mr.   Penrose. 

"Yes,  they  are;  but  I  guess  the  under  fellow  would 
have  been  killed  before  any  constituted  authorities  got 
here." 

"And  you  might  have  been  stabbed  or  shot,  Will." 

"Not  likely." 

"But,  to  resume,"  said  the  minister,  resuming  accord- 
mgly,  and  detailing  wise  views  at  some  length,  while  the 
young  folks  walked  on  in  silence,  until  Sally  suddenly 
broke  forth,   squeezing  Will's  arm: 

"How  changed  you  are!  " 

"Ha,  ha!  "  he  laughed.  "I  suppose  I  am.  A  year  ago 
I  should  have  hunted  for  a  policeman  if  it  had  taken  all 
the  morning,  and  then  entered  the  complaint,  followed 
up  the  trial,  secured  the  conviction  of  the  murderer — also 


CHICAGO  AGAIN.  I5I 

his  conversion  before  execution — buried  the  dead  and 
provided    for  the  support    of  the  widows  and  orphans." 

"Will,  dear,  this  was  better." 

"Thank  you,  Sally.  Glad  you  like  the  religion  of 
force." 

"Oh,  I  feel  as  if  nothing  could  hurt  you;  as  if  you 
were  invulnerable.     Why  isn't  your  name  Achilles?" 

"Ah,  I  see  3'ou  haven't  forgotten  our  old  reading-club 
evenings." 

"No,  indeed  !  And  I  think  I'll  begin  calling  you  Achil- 
les— Killie  instead  of  Willie!  " 

"Well,  now.  Sail}',  here's  the  counting-house  door, 
and  I've  got  to  leave  you  and  plunge  into  a  fight  where 
Achilles  himself  would  be  helpless." 

"Oh — that  horrid  business!  Mean,  narrow,  sordid!" 
After  a  pause  she  added:  "It  was  an  arrow  wound  that 
killed  Achilles!  "     They  laughed. 

"But  not  a  sword  did,"  said  Will;  and  even  Mr.  Pen- 
rose had  to  laugh  at  the  classic  joke  (when  it  was  made 
clear  to  him)   before    "resuming"    the   previous    subject. 

So  the  lovers  parted,  each  thinking  how  witty  and  how 
classic  they  both  were,  and  that  no  matter  how  dull  the 
lives  of  common  folks  grew  after  marriage,  i/ieir  married 
life  would  be  one  long,   happy,  gay,  intellectual  paradise. 

But  now  the  captain  fell  into  sore  trouble. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ACHILLES  HECTORED. 


HINGS  were  blue,  very  blue  indeed,  at 
Fargeon  &  Co.' s  store.  Will's  part- 
ners were  pale  and  thinj  more  worn 
down  than  Will  himself.  The  pinch 
of  war  had  already  come,  while  the 
drunkenness  of  inflation  was  not  yet. 
Customers' notes  were  uncollectible, 
and  their  own  obligations  necessarily 
postponed  in  consequence.  They  had  taken  some  govern- 
ment contracts  which  they  were  filling  at  a  loss,  because 
goods  were  rising  in  price  at  the  East,  though  not  yet 
higher  in  Chicago.  At  the  same  time,  their  chief  rival, 
Meyer  Moss-Rosen,  was  said  to  be  doing  well,  now  that 
the  great  Fargeon  was  no  longer  personally  an  active 
competitor. 

Before  noon  Fargeon  was  inclined  to  wish  himself  back 
in  camp  with  his  poor,  simple-hearted,  single-souled  sol- 
diers. Instead  of  having,  as  of  old,  to  tear  himself  away 
from  his  business,  he  bad  to  force  himself  to  stay  among 
its  discouraging,  confounding,  confounded  intricacies.  In 
a  month  or  two  he  could  have  got  into  harness  once  more; 
could  perhaps  have  peered  into  the  future  and  foreseen 
the  towering  rise  in  prices  that  was  bound  to  follow  the 
issue  of  greenbacks.  If  he  had  not  thrown  himself  into 
the  gulf  of  war,  he  could,  like  others,  have  flown  high  upon 

153 


ACHILLES    HECTORED.  I53 

its  vapors.  He,  like  others,  could  have  made  millions  in 
the  days  when  "the  biggest  fool  was  the  wisest  man  of 
business,"  because  wild  speculation,  piling  up  mountains 
of  debt,  buying,  begging,  borrowing,  stealing — anything 
to  get  hold  of  property — during  the  huge  inflation  of 
1862-65,  was  for  once  in  the  country's  history  the  sure 
and  only  road  to  wealth. 

The  monthly  trial-balances  which  had  found  their 
way  to  him  in  camp  had  half  broken  his  business  heart; 
now  the  actual,  physical  contact  with  the  reality  went 
near  to  finish  him.  Such  prices  as  goods  were  marked 
at  for  sale!  Not  because  they  were  worth  the  new 
values,  but  simply  because  nothing  less  would  bring  the 
firm  out  whole. 

"Uncle  Colin,  what  do  you  say  to  all  this?" 

"Aweel,  ma  lad,  be  it  peace  or  be  it  strife,  the  warld's 
na  changit.  Fast  bind,  sure  find.  Brag's  a  gude  dog, 
but  haudfast's  a  better.  Wha  gangs  a-borrowin'  gangs 
a-sorrowin'.  Mind  ye  this:  whate'er  the  pace,  slow 
and  steady  wins  the  race.  Mackerel  skies  an'  gray 
mares'  tails  male  high  ships  carry  low  sails.  Never  syne 
the  v/arld  standit  was  the  sky  mair  clapperclawit  than 
noo,  an'  wae's  me  for  the  ship-man  that  heeds  not  they 
signs.  Ye  maun  buy  what  ye  see  the  surety  o'  sellin', 
an'  mak  nae  promises  that  ye  see  nae  suret)'^  o'  keepin'. 
Thae  preenciples  hae  guided  me,  an'  hae  stood  me  in  gude 
stead  a'  m}'  life,  when  ither  men — aiblins  better  men 
— went  doon.  I  just  tuke  heed  that  the  day's  refection 
should  bear  the  morrow's  reflection.  That's  a'  the  wit 
your  Uncle  Colin  knaws — but  ye'll  gang  yer  ain  gait. 
You  Yankees  are  neither  to  hand  nor  to  bind." 

"Surely,  surely,  Uncle  Colin, "  Will  hastened  to  answer, 
"those  are  the  lessons  I  was  brought  up  on.  The  other 
fellows  seem  to  have  learned  some  new  ones,  but  if  they 


154  I'HE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

are  good  sense — why,  I  have  been  out  of  school  while 
the  old  wisdom  was  rubbed  out  and  the  new  written  on 
the  blackboard." 

One  little  circumstance,  corrective  of  any  lingering 
tendency  to  puffed-up-ness  on  Fargeon's  part,  was  the 
comparative  indifference  v/hich  business  men  felt  and 
showed  for  his  war  record.  William  Fargeon  had  gone 
off  to  fight — a  very  proper  and  creditable  thing  for 
William  to  do,   but — business  is  business. 

"Well,  Meyer,  how  goes  it?" 

"Why,  William  !  is  that  you?  Glad  to  see  you  back ! 
Let's  see — two  arms,  two  legs,  one  head — goods  seem 
to  agree  with  inventory  and  sample  so  far." 

"Oh,  yes;  I'm  all  here  yet." 

"Well,  that's  first-rate!     Been  in  any  battles  yet?" 

"Some  skirmishes." 

"And  never  touched,  eh?" 

"Not  yet." 

"You're  in  luck!  Well,  you  always  were  a  lucky  cuss. 
Shouldn't  wonder  if  you  came  out  safe  and  sound  after 
all!  You'll  save  the  Union  and  be  back  again,  under-buy- 
ing and  under-selling  the  rest  of  us,  like  old  times, 
before  we  know  it!  " 

"Can't  most  always  tell  what  we  may  least  expect. 
What  do  you  think  of  trade?" 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me."  [Fargeon  was  not  a  purchaser, 
so  the  most  bearish  views  were  in  place.]  "Some  pre- 
tend to  think  they  can  see  their  way  out,  but  hang  me 
if  /  can." 

"'It  is  naught,  it  is  naught,  saith  the  buyer,  but  when 
he  is  gone  his  way  then  he  boasteth.'  " 

"Ha,  ha!  You  always  were  a  cuss  at  quoting  Script- 
ure! I'd  like  to  see  the  buyer  that  can  boast  nowa- 
days.    I  buy  a  bale  of  goods,  sell  it  at  what  looks  to  be  a 


ACHILLES    HECTORED.  1 55 

profit,  and  hang  me  if  it  don't  take  every  cent  I  got  for 
it  to  buy  another  like  it!  " 

"How  are  collections?" 

"Collections!  There  ain't  any.  Nobody  pays  in  any- 
thing but  promises." 

"Come  over  and  buy  us  out.  I'll  take  your  promises 
for  every  stitch  we've  got." 

"Buy  you  out?  Yes,  if  you'll  take  pay  in  the  bad  debts 
we've  got  owing  to  us!"  He  laughed  and  turned  awa)^  to 
hide  the  flash  tliat  came  from  his  shrewd  eyes  at  the 
thought  of  getting  hold  of  that  great  mass  of  goods  at 
last  year's  prices. 

"Think  it  over,   Meyer." 

Mej'er  Moss-Rosen  did  think  it  over.  Little  sleep 
did  he  get  that  night,  and  before  morning  he  was  a 
millionaire  in  his  waking  dreams. 


"Oh,  Sally,  how  tired  I  am!" 

"Why,  Will,  deal'  Will,  you  look  perfectly  worn  out ! 
What  have  those  horrid,  sordid,  low  counter-jumpers 
been  saying  to  my  splendid  soldier?" 

"The  truth,  I  believe." 

"Never  mind  them,  my  poor  dear!  " 

"But  I  must  mind  them,  love.  I  owe  vast  sums  of 
money  that  must  be  paid." 

"Well,  I  have  hundreds  of  dollars  of  my  very  own. 
That  will  help.     And  how  much  is  your  pay  as  captain?" 

He  laughed  almost  gayly,  as  he  replied: 

"Oh,  you  blessed  little  simple-hearted  financier!" 
(squeezing  her  pretty  chin  until  its  dimple  was  as  profound 
as  her  wisdom).  "Your  hundreds  of  dollars,  added  to 
my  pay  as  captain  for  a  hundred  years,  would  just  make 
a  little  bit  of  a  beginning  toward  paying  those  debts,  if 
no  interest  were  charged  meanwhile." 


156  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

"Interest?  Our  whole  interest  is  in  you!  We  owe  you 
soldiers  all  our  interest  in  life!" 

"Well,  how  about  the  principal?" 

"Oh,  bother  the  principal!  Don't  tell  me  that  people 
who  don't  goto  the  war  are  going  to  demand  money  from 
those  who  do!  " 

"Oh,  won't  they,  though;   that's  all!" 

"Well,  Captain  Fargeon, "  broke  in  Mr.  Penrose,  "now 
let  me  tell  you  what  I've  been  doing  for  Company  K 
this  morning." 

"Again  have  you  come  to  our  rescue,  Mr.  Penrose?  I 
remember  how  you  got  our  outfit." 

"A  hundred  double  blankets,  twenty  camp-kettles,  ten 
axes  with  helves — "  began  the  minister. 

"Father!"  screamed  Lydia,  clapping  her  hands  to  her 
ears.  "Father!  "  murmured  Sally,  doing  likewise.  "Now, 
my  dear!  "  expostulated  Mrs.  Penrose,  while  the  boy  made 
a  pretense  of  hiding  under  the  table— from  which  demon- 
strations Will  guessed  that  Mr.  Penrose  must  have  men- 
tioned the  matter  before. 

"There,  Captain;  that's  the' way  they  gibe  and  jeer  at 
me  whenever  I  allude,  even  in  the  most  casual  manner, 
to  the  little  service  I  was  able  to  render  you — buying  the 
things  you  wanted,  whereof,  by  the  way,  I  unluckily  lost 
the  list.  One  would  think  that  I  had  frequently  spoken 
of  the  circumstance,  while  in  fact  the  case  is  quite  the 
contrary.  And  such  is  the  gratitude  of  republics!  But 
to  resume:  You  know  it  was  the  Fulcrum  which  sent 
down  its  reporter  on  the  sword-presentation  occasion. 
Well,  the  Rostrum  is  bitter  as  ever  against  the  Fulcrum, 
so  I  went  to  see  its  editor,  whom  I  know  well,  and  told 
the  story  of  your  skirmish  and  the  shabby  way  in  which 
the  Fulcrum  behaved  about  it." 
'  "You  did?     You  frighten  me!      Where  should  I  stand 


ACHILLES    HECTORED.  I57 

in  the  army  if  I  were  to  show  up  as  using  m}'  leave  oi 
absence  to  hunt  for  newspaper  notoriet)'?" 

"Oh,  I  took  care  to  say  that  I  called  without  your  priv- 
ity, and  they  promised  to  make  that  plain." 

"And  what  did  you  tell  them?" 

"Simply  and  truly  that  the  reporter  had  taken  offense 
at  your  proper  reticence,  and  had  vindictively  and  wan- 
tonly suppressed  the  identity  of  the  fighters." 

"Mmm!  Well,  it's  the  truth,  anyway.  Poor  Clint 
Thrush!  " 

"They  are  crazy  to  get  hold  of  the  thing,  and  are  going 
to  send  a  short-hand  man  here  to-night  to  get  your  story 
of  the  battle — " 

"Skirmish." 

"Well,  whatever  5'ou  call  it.  But  to  resume:  They  say 
that  they  will  have  something  simply  terrible — a  scoop, 
I  think  they  call  it — on,  or  in,  or  over,  or  under,  or  some- 
where about  the  Fulcrum.  I  asked  in  vain  for  further 
information  as  to  the  nature  of  'scoop' — whether  it  was 
anything  explosive,  or  poisonous,  or  disgraceful,  or  in  the 
nature  of  a  legal  or  punitive  process;  thej' only  laughed, 
and  said  it  was  worse  than  any  of  those,  and  advised 
me  to  wait  and  see  if  it  didn't  make  the  Fulcrum  people 
lie  down  and  howl  and  feel  sorry  for  the  day  they  were 
born  !" 

"Oh,  a  'scoop'  is  only  the  seizure  of  an  interesting 
item  by  one  journal  to  the  exclusion  of  another." 

"Ah !  is  that  all?  "  said  Mr.  Penrose,  rather  crest-fallen. 
But  to  resume. 


War  correspondence  had  not  then  risen  to  the  high  art 
it  afterward  became.  Fargeon  (through  years  of  prac- 
tice as  philanthropic  platform-speaker)  was  expert  in 
the  putting  of  things  into  simple,  graphic  language,  and 


158  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

he  was  able  to  talk  to  the  Rostrum's  reporter  half  an 
hour  in  a  flow  of  homely  narrative  that  placed  the  events 
of  the  corn-field  before  the  reader  like  a  photograph; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  partly  by  instinct  and  partly 
by  design,  he  managed  to  keep  himself  almost  out  of 
sight  in  the  picture. 

In  reply  to  a  direct  question  regarding  his  interview 
with  the  Fulcrum's  representative,  he  said: 

"Oh,  I  have  no  disagreement  with  the  young  man.  If 
he  had  come  to  me  an  hour  later,  after  I  had  reported 
to  my  commanding  officer,  I  should  have  told  him  the 
same  story  I  have  told  you.  But  I  suppose  he  knew  his 
business,  and  took  what  would   interest  his  readers." 

The  modest  tale,  pathetic,  touching,  harrowing,  inspir- 
ing, made  a  sensation.  It  was  an  education  to  its 
readers  concerning  the  realities  of  war  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  front-line  men.  Hitherto  they  had  been 
confined  to  the  old-fashioned,  upholstered,  historical 
form — charging  battalions,  triumphant  tactics,  masterly 
combinations,  and  other  stuff,  chiefly  manufactured  at 
headquarters  after  the  musket-carriers  had  won  or  lost  a 
day.      For  example: 

"Gen.  Rearview  now  observing  a  wavering  on  the  left, 
led  forward  the  brigades  of  the  reserve,  and  right  gal- 
lantly did  they  spring  to  the  rescue.  Passing  through 
the  decimated  ranks  of  their  comrades,  and  over  the 
bodies  of  the  fallen,  lying  so  close  together  that  it  was 
difficult  to  avoid  stepping  on  them,  they  soon  crossed 
bayonets  with  the  foe." 

Here,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  narrative  of  what  Brown 
and  Jones  and  Robinson  did  and  tried  to  do;  how  they 
loaded  and  fired  and  bled  and  died,  and  how  they  felt 
about  it;  how  prisoners  are  taken,  and  dead  and 
wounded    are    cared    for;     and,     incidentally,    how    the 


ACHILLES    HECTORED.  I59 

Fulcrum  failed  to  get  hold  of  the  matter.  It  was  break- 
fast-table-talk in  the  morning,  and  town-talk  by  noon; 
and  the  Fulcrum  "couldn't  stand  the  pressure,"  but  sent 
one  of  its  editors  to  Fargeon  to  try  to  set  itself  right. 

"Capt'nFargeon,  it  appears  that  you  think  you  have  a 
grievance  against  the  Fulcrum." 

"You  are  mistaken,  sir." 

"Well,  to  read  what  the  Rostrum  says  this  morning 
it  looks  that  way  to  a  man  up  a  tree. " 

"The  Rostrum  got  nothing  from  me  except  the  ac- 
count of  my  company's  skirmish,  and  the  fact  that  your 
young  man  asked  me  to  make  my  report  to  him  before  I 
had  seen  Colonel  Puller." 

"You  did  not  inspire  the  attack  they  made  on  us?" 

"Not  in  the  remotest  degree." 

"Well,  now  we  propose  to  do  full  justice  to  5'ou,  and 
shall  be  glad  to  publish  whatever  3'ou  have  to  say." 

"Thank  you. " 

"What  shall  it  be?" 

"Nothing." 

"Why,  you  know  the  Fulcrum  has  a  good  deal  of  influ- 
ence on  the  public  mind  in  Illinois."  [No  reply.]  "We 
reall}'  desire  to  give  you  a  chance  to  place  yourself  in 
the  light  you  would  wish  to  appear  in." 

"Thank  you  again.  Whenever  I  wish  to  make  any  per- 
sonal explanation  through  your  columns  I  shall  certainly 
call  on  you."  [A  beaming  smile  reinforced  this  asser- 
tion.] 

"Well — now — "  [evidently  disconcerted]  "is  not  some- 
thing due  to  us,  in  view  of  the  virulent  attack  the  Ros- 
trum has  made?" 

"I'm  sure  I  can't  say."  [More  smiles.]  "It's none  of 
my  funeral." 


l60  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Why  shouldn't  you  treat  us  as  well  as  you  did  the 
enemy?" 

"What?     The  rebels?" 

"No,  the  Rostrum." 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  do  say  to  you  exactly  what 
I  said  to  the  Rostrum;  that  is,  that  Company  K,  of 
the  Sixth  Illinois,  largely  a  Chicago  regiment,  did  its 
duty,  did  its  best;  and  that  Private  De  Witt  Clinton 
Thrush,  of  Kingsbury  street,  was  killed,  and  Privates 
Robinson,  Alger,  Corson,  Bryan,  and  Taylor  were 
wounded,  and  that  four  rebels  were  killed  and  four 
wounded  that  we  know  of — and  that  I  shall  be  glad  to 
have  the  friends  of  the  company,  especially  of  the  sol- 
diers named,  made  aware  of  these  facts." 

"And  that  is  all?" 

"That  is  all  1  have  told  and  all  I  have  to  tell." 
[Smiles—always  smiles  in  plenty.] 

A  very  crest-fallen  editor  soon  departed  from  Mr.  Pen- 
rose's door  and  returned  to  the  office  of  the  Fulcrum ; 
while  Will  and  Sarah  went  forth  for  a  long  and  lovely 
walk,  during  which  they  talked  over  the  "interview"  with 
much  happy  laughter  and  many  congratulations  regard- 
ing the  day's  doings,  especially  the  discomfiture  of  the 
Fulcrum. 

When  they  returned,  two  hours  later,  behold  the  same 
gentleman,  reinforced  by  a  short-hand  writer,  impatiently 
waiting  for  a  second  interview. 

"Captain,  since  I  saw  you  we  have  telegraphed  Col.  Y. 
R.  Puller,  and  ascertained  that  it  was  Company  K  which 
covered  the  retrograde  movement,  and  had  another  fight 
with  the  enemy." 

"That  is  the  fact,  sir." 

"Now,  will  3'ou  be  good    enough  to   dictate  to    my  re- 


ACHILLES    HECTORED.  l6l 

porter  an  account  of  that  operation — that  is,  if  you  have 
no  objection?" 

"Certainly  not." 

"You  -won't?  Now  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  the  Ful- 
crum is  not  to  be  trifled  with!  It  is  a  power  in  the  land, 
and  can  make  and  unmake  such  men  as  William  Far- 
geon,  late  trader,  now  company  officer  of  volunteers!  " 

"Very  possibly.  It  is  also  possible  that  you  misunder- 
stood me.  I  meant  to  say  that  I  certainly  had  no  objec- 
tions to  stating  the  facts  of  the  operations  of  the  day 
j-ou  speak  of  for  publication  in  the  Fulcrum — seeing  that 
I  have  long  since  reported  them  to  my  commanding 
officer."      [Smiles  as  before.] 

"Oh — I  beg  5'our  pardon."  [Quite  humbly  for  an 
editor.]  "Then  at  your  convenience  the  reporter  will 
take  down  all  you  have  to  say;  and,  Captain  [with  con- 
descension], "I  assure  j'^ou,  the  more  the  better!" 

The  Fulcrum  of  next  morning  had  two  columns  to  the 
Rostrum's  one  concerning  Company  K's  doings;  and  in 
order  to  out-Herod  Herod,  and  quite  leave  the  Rostrum 
in  the  shade  as  a  friend  to  the  volunteers,  it  pursued  the 
unpleasant  course  of  plastering  Fargeon  himself  with 
fulsome  praise:  "The  modest  hero  and  patriot."  "But 
for  the  enterprise  of  the  Fulcrum  in  telegraphing  to 
Cairo  for  the  information  the  world  would  never  have 
known  even  that  that  splendid  company  had  rendered 
the  valorous  and  dangerous  service  so  graphically  set 
forth  in  our  columns  this  morning.  Its  captain,  a  true 
Chicagoan,  was  far  too  modest  and  retiring  to  volunteer 
the  information." 

So  were  all  wrongs  righted,  and  honor  given  to  whom 
honor  was  due. 

Fargeon  had  no  end  of  "glory"  in  the  days  following. 
Invitations  showered  on  him.     Mr.  Penrose's  church  was 


l62  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

crowded  with  people  anxious  for  a  glimpse  of  his  shoul- 
der-straps. Sally  Penrose  was  happy  and  proud  and  smil- 
ing and  talkative.  She  accepted  congratulations  without 
reserve.  Oh,  no,  she  could  not  say  when  "it"  could  be — 
perhaps  never — but  she  could  hope — al  1  could  hope  and  pray 
for  Captain  Fargeon's  safety,  and  that  even  if  wounded 
his  precious  life  might  be  spared.  Then  she  added  to 
herself:  "He  doesn't  seem  to  be  in  a  dreadful  hurry  to 
marry  me.  I  thought  men  always  were.  I'm  sure  in  novels 
girls  are  everlastingly  pressed  to  name  the  day!  Perhaps  I 
am  too  repellant."  So  she  tried  hard  not  to  be.  And 
she  was  utterly,  entirely,  absolutely,  perfectly  happy — 
almost. 


"Gabriel,"  said  the  editor-in-chief  to  the  managing 
editor  of  the  Fulcrum,  "it  was  Parson  Penrose  that 
started  that  thing  in  the  R. ,  wasn't  it?" 

"Yes." 

"That  d — d  old  cuss  has  had  a  good  deal  of  free  adver- 
tising from  us,  hasn't  he?" 

"No  end  of  it,  for  years — ever  since  he  came  to  that 
church." 

"Well,  stop  it." 

So  the  word  went  down  through  the  establishment, 
"Drop  Penrose."  And  his  name  was  never  again  men- 
tioned in  the  Fulcrum.  No  more  reports  of  sermons. 
No  more  sketches  of  "remarks."  No  more  of  the  thou- 
sand and  one  little  recallings  of  him  to  the  pubhc  heart, 
which  had  been  sweet  and  dear  to  the  good  dominie  through 
all  the  years  of  his  able,  earnest,  heart}^,  valuable,  toilsome, 
ill-paid  service  to  the  cause  of  religion,  temperance, 
patriotism,  charity,  and  morality. 

But  to  resume. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


"will  fargeon,  your'e  an  awful  goose." 

|ERHAPS  he'll  ask  me  to-day!  " 
But  he  didn't. 

"Good  evening,  Mister  Cap- 
tain William  Fargeon,  Esq. 
How  are  things  at  the  store? 
Any  better?" 

A  sad  smile,  a  sigh,  and  a  lit- 
tle, quick,  almost  imperceptible 
shake  of  the  head — more  like  a 
shiver  than  a  negation. 

"Oh,  dear;  Willie — or,  if  you 
like  it  better,  oh!  dear  Willie — 
why  are  you  not  like  a  novel 
hero?  Why  don't  you  sink 
gracefully  on  one  knee,  gestic- 
ulate loudly  with  your  right  hand,  and  say:  'Miss  Penrose, 
I  am  a  capitalist,  wealthy,  affluent  and  rich,  with  a  large 
fortune  and  plenty  of  money  besides.  Take  this  hand! 
Be  mine!'     That  is  the  nice  way  to  behave!" 

"Delightful!  Only  I  should  have  to  finish  my  speech 
by  adding  that  my  other  name  was  Ananias." 

"Well,  now,  Achilles  Ananias  William,  do  tell  me 
exactly  how  it  is.  I  can  bear  it.  All  my  life  I  have 
had  so  many  disappointments  that  nothing  can  surprise 
me  except  an — appointment." 

"Oh,  Sally,  as  things  stand,  I  have  less  than  nothing. 

163 


164  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

The  best  news  I  could  have,  would  be  that  somebody 
would  take  all  we  have  and  pay  our  debts." 

"Well,  dear,  what  difference  should  that  make  to  us? 
I  never  loved  you  for  your  money.  When  you  had  most 
I  liked  you  least.  And  now  the  reverse  is  true."  [She 
meant  the  converse.] 

Will's  reply  to  this  was  not  in  words.  It  was  gratify- 
ing, even  consolatory;  but  it  was  not  an  acceptance  of 
her  flattering  advances. 

"If  my  time  was  not  otherwise  pledged,  I  could  do  as 
I  did  once  before;  get  an  extension  of  credit  from  my 
creditors,  and  think  and  work  and  strive  and  contrive 
until  I  had  again  paid  every  cent  I  owe.  But  now  I  sup- 
pose I  must  leave  it  all  at  loose  ends — go  off  to  the  front 
— give  to  the  great  cause  the  time  I  owe  to  those  who 
have  trusted  me — hear  of  their  trust's  being  disappointed 
— and  almost  wish  a  heaven-directed  bullet  might  wipe 
out  the  score." 

"Oh,  don't — don't  talk  so!  You  are  horrid!  How 
you  overestimate  money  and  underestimate  life — and 
courage — and  love  1" 

"Shouldn't  we  rate  highest  what  is  most  in  demand 
and  least  in  supply?" 

"Well — you  seem  to  do  so,  at  any  rate."  [A  little  air 
of  injury  and  offended  pride  had  to  be  charmed  away.] 
"Uncle  Colin  Thorburn  is  coming  this  evening.  Let  us 
talk  to  him,  and  perhaps  he  can  build  you  up  a  bit." 

Thorburn  had  the  old-time  and  old-world  view  of 
things. 

"The  deil  is  gaun  ower  Jock  Wabster.  Ye  cannawhup 
the  dom  secesh — it  canna  be  done — heest'ry  shows  that 
whaur  a'  the  folk  in  a  gret  deestrict  o'  country  are  banded 
thegither  to  set  up  for  theirsels  they  canna  be  o'ercome." 

"You  thought  we  ought  to  try." 


i65 


l66  THE   CAPTAIN  OF   COMPANY    K. 

"Sae  ye  should  strive,  an'  sairly,  an'  sae  ye  have  striven. 
An'  Bull  Run's  the  upshot!  I  thocht  that  a  gude 
show  o'  force  and  speerit  wad  haud  the  Southrons  back 
frae  f editing;  but  it  didna — it  didna — an'  noo,  the  deil's 
gaun  ower  Jock  Wabster. " 

"Well,  Uncle  Colin,  you  say  the  South  cannot  be  over- 
come: I  say  the  North  cannot  be  defeated.  We  are 
bound  to  maintain  the  Union,  and  we  will  do  it,  too! 
But  that's  aside  from  the  matter  of  making  my  store  pay 
its  debts." 

Then,  upon  solicitation,  he  told  the  old  man  just  how 
things  stood — how  the  stock  on  hand  was  inventoried, 
how  much  the  good  bills  receivable  amounted  to,  and 
how  much  the  delayed,  doubtful  and  bad;  then,  the 
awful  sum  of  the  bills  payable — some  past  due  and  un- 
paid—  "Six  figures  and  neither  of  them  a  one." 

"Aweel,  ma  lad;  gin  ye' 11  stay  and  settle  up  the  thing 
yer  ain  sel' — " 

"That  is  out  of  the  question." 

"Then  leave  orders  to  buy  nothin'  an'  sell  eyerythin'  — 
and  auld  Colin' 11  see  ye  through." 

"What?" 

"I  lo'e  the  Union,  whaur  I  hae  made  ma  fortin'.  I'm 
ower  auld  to  gang  doon  a-fechtin'  for  it — but  I'm  no  too 
auld  to  care  for  a  fine  young  sprig  that  I  lo'e  like  I'd  lo'e 
my  ain  son  if  I  had  ane;  So  gang  yer  gait.  Gie  me 
your  poo-er  of  attorney  to  close  up  yer  matters,  an'  I'll 
gie  ye  ma  obligation  to  pay  evera  cent  ye  owe  in  the 
warrld." 

"Impoverish  yourself  for  me?" 

"Aiblins  aye,  aiblins  no.  Dinna  fash  yersel'  aboot  that. 
I  might  come  oot  squar.  I  might  e'en  save  a  wee  bittock 
for  a  hansel  for  you  and  the  bonnie  lassie  here  whan  a's 
said  an'  done." 


"will  fargeon,  you're  an  awful  goose."         167 

The  bonnie  lassie  went  up  to  the  old  man  and  gave 
him  a  kiss  and  hug  that  showed  what  she  thought  of  him, 
even  if  it  did  not  altogether  balance  the  magnificent  offer 
he  had  made. 

"Well,  Uncle  Colin,"  laughed  Will,  "I  might  as  well 
let  my  creditors  suffer  as  strip  you;  but  I  thank  you  all 
the  same." 

"Na,  na,  ma  lad.  Ye're  no  the  mon  to  tak  their  ainfrae 
them  by  force,  when  ye  can  tak  mine  frae  me  by  ma  f rae 
will.  An'  then  as  to  streepin' — I'm  no  sae  easy  streepit. 
It  wadna  streep  me.  Auld  Thorburn  could  pay  it  a',  an' 
yet  no  gang  wantin'  a  bite  an'  a  sup  in  his  auld  age." 

"What!      Those  bills  payable?" 

"Aye;  thae  bills  peeable.  Colin's  nae  booster,  an' 
ye're  the  only  mon  and  Sally's  the  only  woman  in  the 
warrld  he'd  tell  it  til;  but  noo  ye  ken  the  truth,  the  vara 
truth." 

"Well,  well!"  cried  Fargeon.  "That  is  good  news! 
That  is  another  instance  to  prove  what  I  always  believed 
— that  a  good  life  well  spent  is  sure  of  its  reward." 

"Aye,  lad,  sure  eneuch — if  not  in  this  warld,  in  some 
ither. " 

"No,  no;  I  mean  right  here  and  now.  Mankind  does 
not  take  benefits  from  men  without  repaying  them." 

"Aye,  aye,  lad.  Gang  yer  gait  an'  think  sae  whilst  3'e 
can." 

"Why,  Uncle  Colin!  "  said  Sally  in  expostulating  tones. 
"How  dismally  you  talk!  We  love  to  reward  our  bene- 
factors. Just  see  how  all  the  land  is  trying  to  be  kind 
to  the  soldiers!     There  is  nothing  too  good  for  them." 

"Bide  a  wee,  lass,  bide  a  wee.  The  war  is  only  just 
begun — gratitude  is  weel  said  to  be  a  lively  sense  of 
future  fayvors — bide  till  the  fayvors  are  a'  rendered,  then 
mark  how  sune  they'll  be  forgot!" 


1 68  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Oh,  it's  not  so!  It's  not  so!  I  won't  listen  to  such 
horrid  talk-'  "     And  she  covered  her  ears  with  her  hands. 

"Aweel,  ma  bonnie  lass;  gin  ye  list  me  or  no,  ye 
maun  learn  byexper'ence  an'  no  by  ma  puir  guess-warrk. 
An'  ye' 11  learn  that  to  mak'  the  warrld  pay  its  debts,  ye 
maun  baud  an'  bind  it  hard  an'  fast  before  ye  do  your 
part  of  the  bargain." 

Then  he  told  them  a  fable.  Once  there  was  a  "puir 
simple  body"  who  thought,  as  Sally  thought,  that  man- 
kind would  care  for  its  servants,  small  and  great.  He 
tried  many  experiments  in  the  line  of  rendering  public 
benefits  which  nobody  seemed  to  appreciate;  he  himself 
growing  poorer  and  poorer  as  time  went  on.  At  last,  one 
day,  when  he  was  starving,  he  observed  that  a  certain 
park  gate  was  an  obstruction  to  travel,  thousands  of  per- 
sons being  obliged  to  open  it  for  passage  every  day.  He 
seized  his  opportunity,  posted  himself  at  the  gate,  and, 
with  a  bow  and  a  smile,  opened  it  for  every  comer,  large 
and  small,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor.  Then  his  wants 
were  relieved,  for  they  put  him  in  a  mad-house. 

After  Uncle  Colin  had  departed,  the  lovers  talked  over 
his  munificent  offer,  and  his  great  fortune,  hitherto  un- 
suspected. Sally  urged  her  hero  to  accept  the  proposition, 
so  that  his  soul  might  be  freed  from  these  sordid  cares — 
free  for  war,  and  friendship  and  affection. 

But  at  the  same  time  her  gratitude  to  the  old  man  was 
sadly  interfered  with  by  her  indignation  at  his  cruel, 
hateful  cynicism — his  skepticism  regarding  the  undying 
gratitude  in  store  for  the  volunteers.  Her  father  agreed 
with  her. 

"Capt'n  Fargeon,  I  hope  that  neither  you  nor  any  other 
volunteer  will  give  weight  to  such  words — unpatriotic 
I  should  call  them,  but  that  Brother  Thorburn  is  an 
alien.     Coming    from    the    mouth    of    any    American,  I 


"will  fargeon,  you're  an  awful  goose.' 


169 


should  feel  impelled  to  rebuke  them  as  being  unjust 
toward  man  and  blasphemous  toward  God.  If  I  err  not, 
He  would  pour  out  the  vials  of  His  wrath  on  this  nation, 
were  it  ever  to  justify  the  gloomy  prophecies  of  Brother 
Thorburn." 

Will  thought  of  the  "squeeze"  he  was  undergoing  in 
his  business  matters,  sighed  and  shook  his  head  doubt- 
fully. Sally  looked  at  him  with  anxious,  sympathetic 
eyes,  yearning  to  reassure  and  comfort  him. 

When  they  parted  (for  he  had  insisted  on  transferring 
himself    to     his     own  4\t,)''''/y   i '1  /      ♦ 

lodgings)  she  fairly 
clung  to  his  neck  with 
her  white  hands,  as  if 
she  could  not  let  him 
go,  or  as  if  she  had 
something  more  to  say. 
She  did  let  him  go,  and 
she  did  not  say  it, 
whatever  it  was.  But 
when  he  had  shut  the 
gate  and  was  walking 
away  she  called  after 
him: 

"Will  Fargeon — you 
■ — are — an — awful — goose!  " 

And  then  she  slammed  the  door  and  fled  to  her  own 
room  like  a  scared  fawn — only  fawns  cannot  blush. 


"An  important  movement  on  foot.  All  officers  on  leave 
ordered  to  rejoin  their  regiments  at  once." 

Such  was  the  startling  head-line  Mr.  Penrose  read  out 
from  the  Fulcrum  at  breakfast  next  morning. 

The  cup  of  milk    Sally  was   raising    to  her  lips    fell  to 


170  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

the  table  and  broke,  and  its  contents  streamed  down  her 
dress.  Lydia,  who  sat  beside  her,  hurried  to  wipe  off 
the  fluid,  Sally  not  making  a  motion  to  help.  She  only 
said,  in  a  thin  voice  not  her  own: 

"I'm  afraid — my  gown — is  spoiled." 

And  then  they  laid  her  gently  down  on  the  sofa,  happily 
unconscious  of  the  dreadful  news  and  of  the  agitated 
scene  enacting  around  her.  The  agitation  passed;  her 
pulse  returned;  her  breathing  became  stronger  and  more 
regular.  At  last  the  great  lids  lifted  from  her  soft  eyes, 
and  after  a  moment  of  death-like  wandering,  they  fixed 
themselves  on  her  mother's  face  bending  over  her. 

"Oh,  mamma!  it's  nothing.  Of  course  I  knew  it  must 
come,  sometime.  This  is  the  end — that' sail."  And  she 
burst  into  a  storm  of  tears  and    sobs. 

Later,  even  this  abated,  and  she  grew  calm,  and  insisted 
on  the  others  finishing  their  breakfast,  a  command  which 
the  dominie  was  only  too  glad  to  obe)- — had  been  await- 
ing some  time,  in  truth. 

"Father?  please  ask  Capt'n  Fargeon  to  bring  Mr.  Thor- 
burn  with  him  when  he  comes.  I  want  to  see  them  to- 
gether." 

"But,  my  love,  I  don't  like  to  leave  you  so  ill." 

"Now,  father,  don't  do  as  you  did  that  other  time — 
made  a  failure,  so  that  I  had  to  go  to  the  station  to  find 
Mr.  Fargeon!  " 

She  tried  to  smile,  and  did  manage  to  put  on  a  little 
bit  of  the  appearance  of  strength  and  courage. 

All  the  gentlemen  came  up  to  mid-day  dinner  and  she 
welcomed  them  with  a  sad  smile.  She  could  not  sit  at 
the  table,  "to  spoil  your  appetite  with  my  foolishness," 
she  said;  so  she  lay  on  the  lounge,  a  vision  of  beauty, 
and  tried  to  eat  a  little  from  a  stand  placed  at  her  side; 
her  own   and  her   lover's   eyes  meeting  and   dwelling  to- 


"will  fargeon,  you're  an  awful  goose."         171 

gether  without  any  pretense  of  secrecy.  Such  moments, 
hke  those  of  death,  are  far  above  disguise  and  shame- 
facedness. 

During  dinner  came  the  usual  daily  letter  from  Mac, 
written  in  his  strong,  stiff,  unaccustomed,  soldierly  hand, 
beginning,  as  always,  "I  have  the  honor  to  report,"  and 
containing  the  "sick  report"  and  "guard-house  report,"  the 
"general  orders,"  if  any,  and  the  "watchword  and  coun- 
tersign," and  nothing  else,  before  the  military  close,  "I 
have  the  honor  to  be,  very  respectfully,  your  obedient 
servant."  But  to-day  Fargeon' s  eye  was  caught  by  an 
enigmatical  postscript:  "I  beg  leave  respectfully  to  ask 
your  attention  to  the  request  I  had  the  honor  to  make  to 
you  before  you  left  camp. " 

"Now  what  on  earth  did  Mac  ask  me  to  do  for  him.''" 
And  he  passed  the  letter  around  the  table  for  suggestions. 

"Possibly  he  needs  something  which  might  favorably 
affect  the  moral  nature  of  the  men,"  suggested  Mr.  Pen- 
rose, privately  thinking  of  a  large  number  of  copies  of 
a  bound  volume  of  his  sermons,  which  were  still  un- 
called for. 

"More  likely  something  good  to  eat,"  ventured  Spes 
Gregis. 

"I  wonder  if  his  wardrobe  is  fully  supplied,"  said 
Mrs.  Penrose,  her  very  fingers  itching  to  be  called  upon 
to  sew,  or  knit,  or  work,  or  crochet  something  that  could 
add  to  a  soldier's  comfort. 

"I'm  afraid  it  was  only  to  urge  you  to  hurry  back," 
cried  Sally.  "That  is  what  I  should  ask  if  I  were  there. 
But  Vm  not;  I'm  here,  and  I  don't  want  him  to  have 
his  wish  !" 

Lydia  was  the  only  one  who  had  not  spoken.  The 
letter  rested  in  her  hands,  and  her  glowing  face  bending 
over  it  suddenly  recalled  the  whole  matter  to  Fargeon. 


172  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Why,  Lydia!  How  stupid  of  me!  Of  course  I  know 
now — it  was  that  I  was  to  beg,  borrow,  or  steal  a  portrait 
of  the  young  lady  who  made  that  needle-case!  The  one 
I  had  was  lost  during  our  expedition." 

All  eyes  were  turned  toward  Lydia,  who  blushed  and 
bridled,  and  then  suddenly  buried  her  face  in  the  hollow 
of  her  arm  and  began  to  cry. 

"Why,  Lydia,  what  is  there  to  cry  about?" 

"You  can  simply  decline,  my  daughter,  if  it  is  so  dis- 
tasteful to  you." 

"Certainly,  there  need  be  no  distress  over  the  matter. 
I  can  explain  that  I  forgot  the  errand  until  just  as  I  was 
starting." 

"Never  mind,  Bunny!  Don't  cry.  I'll  send  him  mine, 
and  so  it'll  be  all  right,"  remarked  Spes  Gregis,  to 
clinch  the  matter. 

"Let  me  be!  Go  awa}',  all  of  you!  I'm  only  crying 
because  I  didn't  know  in  time  to  be  taken  in  my  new 
hat." 

Then  it  was  easily  settled,  that  the  very  best  of  the 
old  pictures  should  go,  now,  to  be  followed  by  one  taken 
in  the  new  hat  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

They  talked  everything  over  after  dinner.  Events 
seemed  to  combine  to  force  W^ill  to  accept  Thorburn's 
kind  offices,  and  he  reluctantly  concluded  to  do  so. 
Will's  junior  partners  were  only  too  glad  to  have  the 
shrewd  old  Scot  to  share  their  responsibilities;  and  the 
needful  documents  were  executed  in  time  to  let  Will 
spend  some  quiet  hours  at  the  parsonage,  Thorburn  con- 
sideratel}'  declining  to  be  one  of  the  party. 

"Good-bye,  Uncle  Colin.  Take  care  of  Sally  while  I 
am  down  tending  gate,  like  the  fellow  in  the  fable." 

"God  guard  ye,  ma  lad!  gin  ye  win  safe  hame.  I'll 
see  that  ye' 11  no  hae  to  gang  til  the  mad-hoose  after  a'." 


"WILL   FARGEON,    YOU'RE    AN   AWFUL   GOOSE. 


173 


Needless  to  try  to  tell  of  Will's  parting  with  the  others. 
It  was  like  the  tens  of  thousands  of  other  partings  of 
those  days  at  the  North,  the  South,  the  East,  and  the 
West.  But  after  the  last  kiss,  the  last  word,  the  last 
embrace,  Sally  called  her  lover  back  to  whisper  some- 
thing in  his  ear — then  changed  her  mind  and  pushed  him 
away,  saying: 

"No — I  won't  tell  you  after  all!" 


Meyer  Moss-Rosen  had  been  aching  to  see  Will  again 
on  the  subject  of  the 
purchase  of  his  business, 
but  he  did  not  dare  to 
make  the  first  advances. 
He  absolutely  kept  away 
from  the  Fargeon  store, 
but  oh!  how  his  eyes 
kept  watch  of  his  own 
doors,  hoping  to  see  Will 
appear!  Now,  when  his 
rival  had  been  suddenly 
called  away,  he  cursed 
his  caution,  and  wished 
that  he  had  braved  the! 
loss  of  a  few  thousands,' 
rather  than  that  of  the 
whole  huge  prize. 

But  he  soon  found  that 
all  had  turned  in  favor  of 
his  grasping  hopes.  Fargeon  was  gone;  but  he  had  left 
his  affairs  in  the  hands  of  old  Thorburn — shrewd  and 
cool-headed,  but  a  foreigner,  a  conservative,  an  unbe- 
liever in  miracles,  a  believer  in  precedents,  a  skeptic  as 


174  '^^^   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

to  any  profit  being  possible  out  of  great,  immeasurable 
disaster. 

To  pass  quickly  over  a  dry  bit  of  our  story:  Thor- 
burn  sold  and  Moss-Rosen  bought  the  entire  assets,  ac- 
counts, stock,  leasehold,  good-will,  and  fixtures  of  the 
Fargeon  store,  the  consideration  being  the  assumption 
by  the  buyer  (with  ample  security)  of  all  the  debts  owed 
by  the  Fargeon  firm;  also  the  employment  of  the  Far- 
geon partners  and  employes  at  fair  wages  for  consider- 
able lengths  of  time,  dependent  on  good  conduct  and 
faithful  service. 

Thorburn  was  so  overjoyed  that  he  could  not  refrain 
from  telegraphing  the  news  to  Fargeon,  paying  dollars 
for  the  long  message;  to  which  Will  replied  tersely, 
"Thank  God  and  thank  you,"  and  signed  it  "Gate-opener. " 

A  year  later  the  thing  sold  was  worth  above  its  price 
Sioo,ooo  (in  greenbacks);  two  years  and  a  half  later 
$250,000  (in  greenbacks);  and,  fifteen  5'ears  after  //la/, 
greenbacks  and  gold  were  interchangeable  commodities, 
dollar  for  dollar.  The  miracle  happened;  all  precedent 
was  denied  and  all  "heest'ry"  defied.  The  purchase  w\  s 
Moss-Rosen's  first  great  step  in  the  vast  fortune  he 
accumulated — millions — which  he  held  fast  up  to  the 
time  of  the  great  fire,  and  might  have  kept  to  this  day 
if  he  had  not  (in  the  slang  of  the  time)  "wanted  the  earth. " 

The  good  old  man  who  had  been  the  unwitting  agent 
of  Fargeon's  financial  mistake  never  forgave  hiiliself 
his  share  in  the  blunder.  "Me  to  fancy,  like  an  auld  fule 
as  I  am,  that  a  Yankee  ell  could  be  gauged  by  a  Scottish 
thumb!"  And  he  tried,  with  his  latest  breath,  to  atone 
for  the  error,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter. 


"Sally,  dear,  I  suppose  you  are  growing  accustomed  to 
these  ragged  note-book  leaves,  scribbled  over  at  all  kinds 
of  moments  (with  words  of  nok'ind  of  moment)  and  torn 


"will  fargeon,  you're  an  awful  goose."         175 

out  to  send  to  you.  Well,  this  one  will  surely  be  wildly 
illegible,  for  as  I  write  it  I  am  standing  on  the  rear 
platform  of  the  hindmost  car  in  the  train  which  is  carry- 
ing me  south  to — who  knows  what?  The  great,  pure, 
pale  moon  is  almost  setting  in  the  west.  Good-bye 
moon  I  You  have  shone  upon  the  happiest  nights  of  my 
life — those  of  the  past  week,  spent  with  my  sweet  love. 
Now  the  rude  day  is  dimming  your  peaceful  light  in 
unfriendly  glare!      Heigh-ho! 

"Now  we  are  halting  awhile  in  the  open  prairie.  How 
the  frogs  are  trilling  their  ceaseless,  senseless  song  in  the 
invisible  ditches  at  the  side  of  the  track  !  R-r-r-r-r-r-ee! 
R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ee !  Trills  near  and  trills  far,  following, 
crowding  upon  one  another,  overlapping  and  making 
the  sound  continuous  as  a  whole,  though  dominated  by 
one  brazen-throated  denizen  of  the  nearest  puddle. 

You  may  guess,  from  the  unseasonable  place  and  hour 
at  which  I  scrawl  these  lines,  that  this  has  not  been  a 
very  restful  night.  Well,  who  could  sleep — who  would 
willingly  sleep — under  my  present  circumstances?  Just 
parted  from  the  loveliest,  dearest,  sweetest  of  women; 
the  one  woman  whom     *     *      *     =f 

"What?  The  moon  is  gone.  Thus  perish  the  fairest 
of  earth's  visions. 

"Now  we  are  rumbling  on  again.  The  dawn  is  redden- 
ing the  east.  So  flat  is  the  prairie,  and  so  low  the  train, 
that  my  horizon  is  formed  of  the  tall  grasses  only  a 
stone's  throw  off — all  the  rest  is  starry  sky,  reddening, 
always  reddening  to  the  sunrise.  Long  level  streaks  of 
fire  fringe  the  under  edges  of  low-lying  clouds  in  the  east. 
As  it  grows  lighter,  I  see  that  the  prairie  around  me  is 
covered  with  a  lake  of  heavy,  white  mist.  Ugh!  It 
looks  so  cold  that  I  shiver!  And  here  comes  the  brake- 
man  to  put  out  the  light  by  which  I  have  been  writing. 
Good  night,  dear — or  rather,  good  morrow  " 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

9 

BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND     BREAKFAST. 

AC,  where  have  you  been?" 

"Away    out  in  the    bow,  Captain," 
"On  the  lookout  for  rebs?" 
"On    the     Hsten.      Come    forward 
and  hark.      There;    now  we' re  out  of 
the  noise  of  our  own  boat.     Hark!" 
Boommm! 
Boooommnimm! 
"What's  that?" 

"Gun-boats    shelhng    Fort    Donel- 
son." 

"Can  they  take  the  fort?" 

"Naw!"  [The  fio  contemptuous  is  naw.']  "Artillery 
can  destroy,  but  it's  only   infantry  that   can  capture." 

"Mac,  do  you  know,  I  half  suspect  you  were  born  in 
the  infantry."  After  waiting  in  vain  for  a  laugh  at  this 
poor  joke  he  changed  the  subject. 

"Who  is  this  Grant,  anyhow?" 

"West  Point  and  Mexico." 

"Is  he  all  right?" 

"I  guess  so,  if  he'll  keep  straight.  He  was  a  bully 
good  company  officer;  but  I  hear  he  went  a  little  wild 
after  he  came  home  from  Mexico." 

"Will  he  do  any  good  here?" 

"Well,  he  took  Fort  Henry  the  other  day  with  a  hurrah, 
after  the  gum-boots  had  tramped  it  all  out  of  shape.    Now 

176 


BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND    BREAKFAST.  1 77 

he's  after  bigger  game — their  whole  army  and  Donelson 
itself." 

At  last  the  Saginaw  ran  her  nose  into  the  muddy  bank 
and  the  Sixth  Illinois  disembarked,  looking  in  vain  for 
the  Silverheels  with  the  regimental  baggage.  When  they 
could  wait  no  longer,  the  men  marched  along  the  rear  of 
the  earlier  comers  to  their  designated  camp;  alas!  no 
camp !     "Foot,  Legget  and  Walker' s  line  again, "  they  said. 

As  they  plodded  wearily  on,  "hunching  up"  their  heavy 
cartridge-boxes,  and  changing  their  heavy  niuskets  from 
one  shoulder  to  the  other,  they  could  hear  the  novel, 
thrilling  sounds  on  their  left — distant  musketry  and  field 
artillery,  and  always  the  sullen  thunder  of  the  fort  and 
the  gun-boats. 

Weary  miles  are  passed.  Night  falls,  and  the  gleam 
of  camp-hres  lights  up  the  tents  of  the  troops  already 
encamped. 

"Say,  fellers,  ain't  we  most   thar?" 

"Never  you  mind,  Johnny,  my  son.  Jest  you  'tend  to 
business,  an'  keep  a-puttin'  one  foot  afore  the  other." 

"Ah,  yah!  Thankee  fer  nothin',  Jeff  Cobb.  I've  been 
a-doin'  that  so  long  I'm  tired  of  it.  I  b'lieve  I'll  try 
puttin'  one  foot  behind  the  other  for  awhile."  And 
Johnny  turned  around  and  walked  backward  until  the 
man  following  him  threatened  to  step  on  his  toes. 

"Whar  in  thunder  is  our  tavern?  Blamed  if  I  don't 
think  we  must  'a'  passed  it  unbeknownst." 

"Nary.  We'd  'a'  knowed  it  by  the  smell  of  the  beef- 
steak and  fried  onions  they're  a-gettin'  ready  for  our  sup- 
per." 

Somebody  struck  up  "The  Lord,  He  saw   Us  from    on 
High,"  and  for  a  while  the  way   was  lightened  with  the 
inspiring  music.     A  melting  snow  began  to   fall,  and  the 
cheery  voice  of  Mac  rang  out  through  the  darkness: 
II 


178  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Secure  arms!  Git  yer  gunlocks  under  yer  armpits, 
boys!  Ye  may  not  want  'em,  but  when  ye  do  want  'em 
ye  want  'em  bad,  and  ye  want  'em  dry." 

A  voice  called  out,  "Who's  dry  in  this  crowd?"  and 
another  answered,  "I  be — ef  ye've  got  anything  in 
yer  flask  wuth  drinkin',"  which  raised  a  low  laugh. 

The  mud  was  terrible,  especially  for  Company  K,  which 
had  to  tread  where  the  other  nine  companies  had  pre- 
ceded it.  Feet  floundered  and  slipped  hither  and  yon. 
Shoes  were  loaded  and  invisible;  trousers  solid  with  mire 
as  high  as  the  knees,  and  plastered  up  to  the  waistband, 
above  which  coats  were  spattered  to  the  collar. 

Fargeon  himself  started,  'Bully  for  you,  bully  for  all," 
and  again  there  was  a  short  space  of  relief  from  tedium. 

At  length  they  left  the  soft,  slippery  road,  and  halted 
in  a  forest  of  evergreens,  where  the  foliage  looked  inky 
black  in  contrast  with  the  snow  that  covered  the  ground 
and  loaded  the  branches.  The  night  was  dark,  moonless 
and  starless;  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  snow  they 
would  have  had  almost  to  feel  their  way.  Will  groaned 
in  spirit  as  he  thought  of  the  cheer,  the  moonlit  beauty, 
and  the  paved  streets  of  Chicago,  the  floored  and  roofed 
houses,  the  loaded  tables,  and  the  lighted  flres  and 
lamps. 

"Mac,  what  does  this  mean?" 

"What  does  what  mean.   Captain?" 

"Why,  this;  no  tents,  no  blankets,  no  food,  no  fire, 
no  axes — no  anything  but  cold  and  wet  and  miser}^" 

"Well,  Captain,  it  means  war;  that's  all." 

Will  kicked  the  toe  of  one  boot  against  the  heel  of 
the  other,  alternately,  to  restore  circulation,  and  then 
mused  aloud: 

"It  seems  incredible!  Here  am  I,  a  free  American  cit- 
izen, unconvicted  of  crime,  with  money    in    my    pocket. 


BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND    BREAKFAST. 


179 


and  yet  I  can't  leave  this — this  inievnzl  /ti^rgafcrj  to  get 
warm  and  buy  a  meal  of  victuals  and  a  night's  lodging, 
to  save  my  life." 

Mac  smiled  grimly  for  a  moment  and  then  rejoined: 

"You  are  not  a  free  citizen.  You're  a  soldier;  and 
you  don't  come  out  to  save  your  life,  but  to  spend  it — 
lose  it,   like  enough." 

However,  a  few  axes  are  soon  borrowed  from  a  neigh- 
boring battery  camp, 
and  then  how  the  boys 
leap  and  fly  to  the 
work!  Scarcely  is  a 
tree  felled  before  it 
is  stripped  of  bark  and 
branches  by  strong 
hands  pulling,  twist-  ^ 
ing,  tearing  at  every- (' 
thing  that  will  come 
off  by  help  of  knives, 
bayonets,  stones,  or 
any  other  substitute 
for  the  friendly  ax. 
The  first  flames  light 
the  choppers  to  redoubled  efforts,  and  before  midnight 
every  company  has  its  fires  and  its  store  of  fuel  laid  by 
for  all-night  cheer.  Even  the  butt  ends  of  the  burning 
logs  hiss  and  sing  almost  like  the  comfortable  tea-kettles 
of  home. 

Lucky  the  man  who  finds  himself  at  last  lying  upon 
two  sticks  of  somewhere  nearly  equal  size,  which  keep 
his  body  at  least  partly  clear  of  the  cold  snow;  his  wet 
feet  toward  a  fire,  his  musket  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm, 
bis  cartridge-box  under  his  head,  his  haversack  spread  on 
his  stomach,  and  its  last  bits    and  crumbs  finding    their 


l8o  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K, 

way  into  that  long-suffering  organ.  Those  who  have  no 
remaining  bits  and  crumbs  will  know  better  how  to 
husband  their  "three-days'  cooked  rations"  on  future 
marches;  not  throwing  away  a  hard-tack  merely  because 
it  tastes  moldy,  or  a  bit  of  pork  because  it  smells 
tainted. 

But  he  who  has  food  is  only  half  blessed  if  he  have 
not  also  his  tobacco;  and  he  who  must  fast  is  not  utterly 
forlorn  if  he  have  his  tobacco.  The  luxurious  cigar, 
the  comfortable  pipe,  or  even  (boldly  be  it  said)  the 
consolatory  mouthful!  Call  it  not  a  "cud,"  or  a  "quid;" 
call  it  rather  a  drop  of  the  balm  of  forgetfulness;  a  bud 
of  the  lotus,  which,  when  Ulysses'  fellow-voyagers  tasted, 
they  were  cured  of  their  homesickness.  Spurn,  if  you 
will,  the  churl  who  has  less  excuse  for  resorting  to  it,  but 
do  not  begrudge  it  to  the  cold,  wet,  tired,  hungry,  home- 
sick patriots  of  Company  K. 

About  midnight  some  officers  pass  along  the  line,  call- 
ing: 

"Fires  out!  Fires  out!  General  orders  says  extinguish 
all  fires!" 

"What  in  God's  name  is  that  for?" 

"The  light  will  draw  the  enemy's  lire." 

"Ah,  yah!      If  we  can  stand  it,  he  can." 

"Fires  out,  I  tell  you." 

"Hell  fires  out!  Nothing  out!  If  General  Orders  wants 
our  fires  put  out  let  him  come  here  and — spit  on  'em." 

"What  regiment  is  this?    I'll  report  you!" 

"The    Forty-' leventh     Froze-to-death.     Give    General 
Orders  the  compliments  of  the    Forty-' leventh  Froze-to 
death,  and  tell  him  if  he'll  send  us  some  tents  and  some- 
thing to  eat  we'll  put  out  our  fires." 

"Where  are  the  officers  of  this  regiment?" 

"No  officers  present,  but  you.     We're  all  men  out  here 


BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND    BREAKFAST.  l8l 

in  the  snow;  and  we'll  keep  our  fires  till  the  tents 
come." 

"That's  what  I  call  a  mutiny!" 

"Call  it  a  matinee  if  you're  a  min'ter.  Only  move  en 
about  your  business." 

"Officer  of  the  guard!  Where's  the  guard  of  this  regi- 
ment?" 

"Out  in  front,  where  it  belongs,  you  fool!  Out  in 
front,  where  you  don't  never  go!     (General  laughter.) 

The  vis  inertia  of  a  great  line  of  prostrate  men,  half 
seen  b}^  the  fitful  fire-light,  half  hidden  in  the  dense 
darkness  of  overhanging  foliage,  was  too  much  for  the 
troublesome  emissaries  of  authorit}'.  They  could  not 
even  say  where  the  voice  or  voices  came  from;  so  they 
seemed  (as  in  a  sense  they  were)  the  voice  of  the  regi- 
ment at  large.     They  gave  one  parting  threat: 

"If  these  fires  aren't  out  in  half  an  hour  the  provo' 
guard  will  come  down  and  arrest  every  man  that  refuses 
to  obey  orders." 

Then  they  disappeared,  pursued  by  jeering  laughter. 
The  fires  were  kept  going,  and  the  provo'  guard  did  not 
come. 

From  one  o'clock  to  four,  Capt.  Fargeon  slept  almost 
constantly,  only  waking  when  some  man,  more  uncomfort- 
able than  the  average,  would  gel  up  and  throw  a  stick 
on  the  fire,  rousing  clouds  of  smoke,  all  alive  with 
sparks,  swirling  toward  the  sky,  in  graceful  spirals  that 
died  away  among  the  tree-tops. 

At  about  four  the  first  deep  slumber  gave  way  to 
anxious  thoughts,  and  after  one  or  two  uneasy  lapses 
into  dreams  and  half-forgetfulness,  he  found  himself 
broad  awake  and  watching  the  snow-flakes  which  had 
again  begun  to  fall. 

With  yawns  and   str&tchings  he    rose   from    his    rigid 


1 82  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

couch  and  moved  his  stiffened  joints,  feeling  so  purpose- 
less and  spiritless  that  he  wished  he  could  longer  have 
remained  oblivious  to  his  painful  environments.  But  the 
sight  of  the  well-known  figures  of  his  own  beloved  Com- 
pany K  men  put  from  his  mind  all  thought  of  self,  and 
awakened  in  him  a  full,  keen  sense  of  his  responsibili- 
ties. He  tramped  along  the  irregular  line  till  he  came  to 
the  beginning  of  Company  I's  men;  and  then  he  turned 
back,  hunting  for  McClintock,  his  guide,  philosopher  and 
friend,  his  ever-present  help  in  time  of  need.  At  length 
he  saw  the  calm,  bronzed  face  that  was  always  restful 
to  his  eyes.  Mac  was  sharing  the  blanket  of  two  sol- 
diers, each  of  whom  had  evidently  been  so  anxious  to  ac- 
commodate the  great  lieutenant  that  they  had  gradually 
robbed  themselves  of  their  precious  shelter  for  his 
benefit. 

Mac  was  sound  asleep.  His  strong  chest  rose  and  fell 
in  slow,  rhythmic  motion,  undisturbed  by  the  slight 
crackling  of  the  fire,  the  hissing  of  the  end-logs,  and  the 
loud  chorus  of  snores  that  rose  into  the  still  air  from  the 
recumbent  groups.  Will  was  loth  to  rouse  him,  and 
stood  for  a  long  time  with  his  back  to  the  blaze,  enjoy- 
ing the  genial  warmth  and  the  sight  and  sound  of  rest 
and  recuperation  all  around  him. 

"Sleep,  the  leveler!  Every  one  of  my  poor  boys  is 
just  as  happy  as  any  other  sound-asleep  man  on  earth! 
There  is  nothing  more  beautiful — but  death." 

At  length  Mac  stirred,  yawned,  turned  uneasily,  and 
opened  his  eyes. 

"Good  morning,  Mac." 

"Good  morning.  Captain.      Anything  up?" 

"Nothing,  except  me.  I'm  thinking  about  the  boys' 
breakfasts." 

"That's    so,"  said  the  other,  instantly  ready  for  duty, 


BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND    BREAKFAST.  183 

sitting  up  and  spreading  the  blanket  over  his  two  com- 
panions. Then,  as  he  arose,  he  added  :  "Of  course  the  regi- 
mental commissary  didn't  get  anything  last  night,  and  I 
don't  know  where  the  brigade  commissary  keeps  himself." 

"I'd  like  to  beg,  borrow,  or  steal  a  few  rations  just 
now." 

"So  would  I.  I  guess  I'll  feel  my  way  back  to  the 
artillery  camp  we  passed.  The  battery  boys  are  alwaj's 
best  off.  With  all  their  guns,  caissons,  limbers  and  one- 
thing-another,  they  have  more  transportation  than  any- 
body else." 

"Good  enough!      I'll  go  too." 


"Halt!      Who  goes  there?" 

"Friends. " 

"Advance  one  friend  and  give  the  countersign." 

"We  haven't  the  countersign.  Please  call  the  officer 
of  the  guard." 

"OFFICER  OF  THE  GUARD!  POST  NUMBER 
FOUR!"     The  officer  came. 

"We  are  from  the  regiment  that  got  in  late  last  night, 
and  we  want  some  help — the  Sixth  Illinois." 

"What!  the  Sixth!  Come  along  in,  gentlemen!  This 
is  Taylor's  Battery,  light  from  Chicago,  where  you  belong! 
What  can  we  do  for  you?" 

All  was  lovely.  There  were  cooked  rations  on  hand  enough 
to  justify  the  loan  of  a  substantial  breakfast  for  Company 
K,  and  there  were  rested  and  refreshed  men  astir  ready 
and  willing  to  "pack"  the  victuals  over.  Our  lucky  friends 
walked  back  (after  a  long,  blissful  drink  of  hot,  black  cof- 
fee), munching  hard  tack  and  boiled  salt  pork  that  "went 
to  the  spot,"  as  the  phrase  goes,  and  then  amused  them- 
selves by  steahng  along  the  sleeping  line  of  Company  K, 


184  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

slipping  two  biscuits  and  a  bit  of  pork  into  every  sleep- 
er's haversack;  not  forgetting  the  men  on  post,  sleepy, 
tired,  and  grateful. 

By  this  time  it  was  almost  six  o'clock,  and,  though  dark, 
near  enough  to  dawn  to  tell  which  way  was  east. 

Reveille  was  sounded  by  bugle  at  brigade  headquarters, 
and  by  drum  and  fife  at  each  regiment.  The  drum-and- 
fife  tune  (as  expressed  by  the  words  the  men  had  fitted 
to  it)  ran  tluis: 


r-j   n  T   I  "I  ,r"j  r-a 


t»*4c*  y    la^      J»loLLe«-^      ^otvit  x'^  ontl  [rt   k^l««^ 


t)^  "  r    f  I    r  r  i  rj    r^  ^ 

14*  J  ^'^  I   r  I  '^i    :     3 1 


^g^  4»i,  U^  tfvc«  «?VMtU«lr  UrVk^^r  OWUjj^S 


The  men  began  to  squirm  and  3'awn  and  twist  and  turn; 
while  hoarse  coughing,  hawking,  and  other  catarrhal 
sounds  bore  testimony  to  the  injuries  which  had 
resulted  from  the  night's  exposure  to  cold  and 
wet.  The  more  hardy  spirits  gave  vent  to  their  feel- 
ings in  curses  or  jokes,  as  their  various  dispositions  in- 
spired them.      Quoth  Jeff  Cobb  : 

"Hello,  Maria  Jane!  The  baby's  pulled  all  the  clothes 
off  in  the  night."  [He  added  some  imaginary  domestic 
baby  infelicities. J 

"Tell  ye  what,  fellers,  I  didn't  never  in  my  hfe  feel 
so  old  as  I  dew  this  minute." 


BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND    BREAKFAST. 


i35 


"That's  all  right,  Cy.  Don't  ye  know  the  reason  why? 
It's  'cause  ye  never  was  so  old." 

"Ice-cream  for  breakfast,  all  except  the  cream  part," 
cried  Tolliver. 

"Oh,  Lord!  Darn  a  volunteer,  anyhow,  and  darn  any 
man  who  wouldn't  git  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to 
darn  a  volunteer. " 

"Gabr'el,  blow  yer  trump!  I  don't  want  this  world 
to  last  any  longer." 

"If  any  man  names 
hot  griddle-cakes,  with 
butter  and  honey,  shoot 
him  on  the  spot." 

"Ya-as,  an'  if  ye 
can't  hit  him  on  the 
spot,  shoot  him  in  the 
head. " 

Fargeon'  s  and  Mac' s 
little  joke  soon  began 
to  come  to  its  point. 

"Tom  Lightner,  ye 
infernal  cuss,  what  ye 
eatin'?" 

"Oh,  nothin'.  I  ain't 
waked  up  yet.  I'm. 
sound  asleep  an' 
dreamin'    I'm  eatin'  a  bully  good  breakfast." 

"Why,  look  a-hyer!  I'll  swear  I  eat  up  every  scrap 
last  night  the'  was  in  my  haversack,  an'  hyer's  pork  an' 
crackers!  Seems  like  the  Bible  yarn  consarnin'  the  Wid- 
der  Cruse' s  oil- jug," 

"Say,  boys,  feel  in  yer  haversacks." 

"Great  Scott  alive!" 

"Glory  hallelujerum!" 


1 86  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Ah!  that's  sweeter  than  a  pretty  gal  playin'  the  pie- 
anner  with  her  hands  crossways. " 

The  captain  and  lieutenant  stood,  coat-tails  in  hand 
and  backs  to  the  fire,  gazing  up  into  the  tree  tops  in 
pretended  unconsciousness  of  the  excitement,  while  man 
after  man  made  his  joyful  discovery  and  expressed  his 
sentiments,  until  Jim  Flynn  exhausted  the  subject  .and 
capped  the  climax  of  eulogy: 

"Tell  ye  what  it  is,  fellers;  it's  better  than  a  punch  in 
the  eye  with  a  cotton  umbrella!" 

"Boys!"  cried  Corporal  Chipstone,  "that's  the  kind  of 
officers  Company  K's  got!  What  ye  got  to  say  to  our 
officers?" 

A  wild  "He-igh!"  arose  on  all  sides  which  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  neighboring  companies;  and  K's  men 
were  proud  of  their  superiority  over  the  rest,  whose  fast 
was  not  broken  for  an  hour  and  a  half — a  wear}' hour  and 
a  half,  during  which  food  was  got  from  the  brigade  com- 
missary and  cooked. 

"Where  did  you  K  men  get  your  grub  before  the  rest 
of  us?     That  ain't  no  fair  shake." 

"Oh,  our  company  officers  sat  up  all  night  makin'  pine 
cones  and  spruce  gum  into  good  hard- tack  and  boiled 
salt  pork.  That  ain't  no  trick  at  all  when  you  once  get 
the  hang  of  it!  If  we'd  a-slep'  an  hour  longer  they'd 
have  finished  it  up  into  fricasseed  chicken  an'  punkin 
pie;  but  we  tol'  em  we  wouldn't  wait — we'd  take  it  in 
pork  an'   crackers." 

"Never  mind  !     We'll  ketch  K  in  a  tight  place  some  day. " 

"Hope  so — water-tight,   anyhow." 

Company  K  took  its  share  of  the  nine  o'clock  breakfast, 
but  stored  most  of  it  in  haversacks,  having  largely  sat- 
isfied nature's  immediate  cravings  three  hours  earlier. 
At  about  eleven  the  drummer  beat  the  "long  roll." 


BOAT,    BIVOUAC,    AND    BREAKFAST.  I87 

"Fall  in,  men!     Roll  up  your  blankets  and  fall  in!" 

The  long;  line  was  soon  in  place. 

"Attention,  battalion!  Shoulder — ARMS!  By  fours, 
right— FACE!  By  route  step,  forward— MARCH  !  Right 
shoulder  shift— ARMS!  " 

Another  hour  and  a  half  of  marching  through  the  sod- 
den snow  brought  the  Sixth  to  its  destined  place  beyond 
the  furthest  out  of  the  troops  who  had  preceded  it. 

What  next?  Where's  the  enemy?  What's  before  us? 
What's  behind  us?  What's  out  there  on  our  exposed 
right  flank? 

God  knows!  A  private  soldier  is  like  a  blind  horse  in 
a  quarry;  a  precipice  on  every  side  and  a  lighted  blast 
under  his  feet:  his  only  comfort  the  bit  in  his  mouth  and 
the  feeling  of  a  human  hand  holding  the  reins  over  his 
back. 

Was  it  truth,  or  only  an  ex  post  facto  superstition 
founded  on  later  events,  that  Jim  Flynn  and  Harry 
Planter  were  gayer  than  usual — the  very  life  of  Company 
K — this  morning? 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE    AFFAIR    ON    THE    RIGHT. 


ATTALION— halt!" 

"Close  up,  men;  close  up!  "  and  the 
men,  as  usual,  trotted  forward  to 
their  places,  alwa3^s  "hunching  up" 
their  heav}'  cartridge-belts — haver- 
sacks were  unluckily  very  light  b}'' 
this  time — and  there  was  a  constant 
sound  of  musket  barrels  clashing  to- 
gether as  they  shouldered  each  other 
in  the  snowy  road. 

"Front!      Right  —  dress!      Front! 

Order — arms!    Stack — arms!    Rest!" 

"Looks  as  if  we  v/ere  to  form    the 

right  of  the  line,"  said  Mac. 

"How  do  you  like  our   position   here?"    said   Fargeon. 

"Here?     Thunder!     This  is  no  position  at  all — only    a 

trap.      It's  what  we  call  a   'flank  in    the   air.'      No   cover 

and  no  reserve.      Rebs   coming   in    force   from   the   right 

would  have  a  regular  picnic — double  us  up,  one  regiment 

after  another,  as  fast  as  a  man  can  walk,  don't  you  see?" 

"Yes,  I  see,"   said  Will,  looking  anxiously  toward  the 

unknown  right. 

"First  thing  should  be  to  deploy  a  company  as  skir- 
mishers to  find  what  there  is  over  there;  next,  put 
somebody  back  in  support." 

"I  guess  I'll  step  over  and  speak  to  Col,  Puller  about  it. " 

188 


THE    AFFAIR    ON    THE    RIGHT.  1 89 

"Good  enough — if  he  were  a  soldier,  instead  of  a 
politician." 

"Can't  a  soldier  be  anything  else,  Mac,  besides?'' 

"Yes;   but  not  a  politician." 

Will  smiled  at  Mac's  well-known  dislike  of  "politicians" 
(especially  his  own  colonel),  as  he  went  over  to  quote 
r.Iac's  shrewd  counsel — with  full  credit  to  Mac — which 
the  colonel  forthwith  carried  to  brigade  headquarters  and 
repeated  as  his  ovv'n  ideas. 

Within  an  hour  the  Sixth  was  formed  "in  echelon  of 
companies" — each  company  thrown  back  about  thirty 
paces  behind  its  left-hand  neighbor — to  protect  the  right 
of  our  line;  and  Company  K,  its  blankets  laid  aside,  was 
deployed  as  skirmishers,  and  pushing  out  into  the  un- 
known wilds  to  seek  a  foe.  They  found  a  friend  instead, 
in  the  shape  of  a  swamp  practically  impassable;  but  the 
swamp  was  some  half  a  mile  away  from  the  Sixth,  and 
a  road  ran  along  its  edge,  at  right  angles  with  our  general 
line  of  battle. 

Here  they  halted,  scattered  in  skirmishing  order,  tr}'-- 
ing  their  best  to  be  comfortable.  Each  man  selected 
some  tree  or  stump,  and  cleared  away  the  snow  behind 
it  to  leave  him  a  spot  wherein  to  sit,  stand,  or  lie,  or 
stamp  about  for  warmth  and  a  pretense  of  drying  his 
soaked  and  usually  ragged  shoes. 

"Unless  old  Simon  Bolivar  Buckner  is  a  fool,  he  will 
try  a  flanking  movement  by  this  road,"  said  Mac. 

"Where  did  he  learn  soldiering?" 

"He's  a  West  Pointer,  too;  and  was  with  us  in  Mex- 
ico. " 

"How  will  he  go  to  work  if  he  concludes  to  try  it  on?" 

"March  right  down  this  road,  by  the  flank,  'left  in 
front,'  until  he  meets  some  force  that  persuades  him  to 
deploy." 


I  go 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COiMPANY    K. 


"That'll  be  Company  K,  as  skirmishers,  won't  it?" 

"That's  what's  the  matter." 

"And  if  Company  K  weren't  here — what  then?" 

"Oh,  then  Boliver  'd  have  a  picnic;  get  down  abreast 
of  our  'flank  in  the  air,'  right  face  into  line  of  battle, 
and  double  us  up  in  spite  of  thunder." 

"But  we're  here,  Mac." 

"You  bet  we're  here!" 

"I  hope  he  won't  come." 

"Oh,  we  won't  really  fight  him  after  he  forms  line 
of  battle.  While  he 
marches  by  the  flank, 
we'll  face  him.  When 
he  gets  deployed,  our 
business  is  to  light 
out." 

"Mac,  I  guess  I'll 
send  word  to  the  colo- 
nel, to  tell  him  what 
we've  found  out." 

"Oh— well— but  it's 
his  business  to  send  or 
come  to  us  for  the 
news." 

"Likely  he  doesn't 
know  enough.  Any- 
how,   he'll   be  pleased  with  the  attention." 

"He'll  never  be  pleased  with  anything  we  do." 

"Why?  Jealous  of  you,  you  war-worn  old  regular  army 
veteran?" 

"No;  though  he  may  possibly  guess  what  I  think  of 
hitn.  No;  the  trouble  is  the  praise  the  Chicago  papers 
gave  Company  K  for  the  two  Grand  Hill  skirmishes — 
leaving  him  out  in  the  cold." 


THE    AFFAIR    ON    THE    RIGHT.  igi 

"Oh,  he's  forgotten  that  long  ago." 

"Forgotten  it?  Capt'n  Fargeon,  you  just  wait  and  see 
how  much  of  it  he's  forgotten." 

So  Will  wrote  a  few  lines  to  tell  Colonel  Puller  the  state 
of  things,  and  dispatched  them  to  headquarters.  He  be- 
gan to  hope  tliere  would  be  no  fight  that  day.  It  was 
getting  well  on  into  the  afternoon.  Oh,  if  the  day 
might  end  in  quiet!  Some  men  arrived  from  the  regi- 
mental commissary  v/iih  K's  share  of  the  noon  rations. 
They  v/ere  received  with  the  customary  "Heigh!  heigh!" 
which  changed  to  jibes  and  jeers  when  the  food  was 
found  to  be  uncooked. 

"They  think  we're  maggots  and  can  live  on  raw  pork." 

Then  he  watched  the  efforts  of  Mark  Looney  to  start 
a  fire.  It  seemed  as  if  the  chilly  dampness  had  infected 
every  particle  of  matter  in  the  whole  region.  "Dry  leaves" 
were  soaking  wet.    Match  after  match  was  fruitlesslv  tried. 

"Have  you  plenty  of  matches,  Mark?" 

"Yis,  Caftain.      I'd  a  box  av'em  this  morrnin'." 

"Take  care  of  them!     They're  precious." 

"The'  are  that,  sorr!" 

Finall}'  Mac  1  ent  a  hand.  He  lighted  his  pipe  and  puffed 
it  into  a  fine  glow,  then  inverted  it  over  a  promising  mass 
of  splinters,  and  they,  tenderly  nursed  by  Mark's  breath, 
at  last  consented  to  blaze.  While  the  fluttering  baby 
flame  was  growing  by  the  addition  of  the  least  refractory 
stuff  they  could  find,  Mark  cut  and  slashed  the  great  slabs 
of  pork  into  rashers  (rations?),  and  many  jack-knives 
made  ready  many  long  twigs  whereon  the  meat  was  soon 
sizzling,  spreading  around  the  most  delicious,  appetizing 
odor  a  soldier's  nostrils  can  inhale. 

Alas!  The  smell  was  all  the  boys  were  ever  to  get  of 
that  feast;  for  just  now  Mac's  soldierly  instinct  was 
roused  to  cry  out; 


192  THE  CAPTAIN  OF   COMPANY    K. 

"Don't  forget  what  we're  here  for,  boj's.  Remember 
the  rebs!"  And  his  cry  was  answered  by  a  shot  from 
the  front,  the  bullet  whistling  noisily  over  his  head. 

Instantly  every  man  was  on  the  alert ;  even  little  Mark 
running  to  where  he  left  his  musket,  and  peering  out 
from  behind  his  tree,  forgetting  fire  and  food. 

"Save  your  fire,  boys,"  said  Mac,  falling  into  his  usual 
battle  drawl,  "and  remember  your  orders.  If  it's  a  picket 
or  a  skirmish  line,  stand  fast  till  hell  freezes  over.  If 
it's  a  line  of  battle,  give  'em  one  shot,  slow  and  low, 
and  then  skedaddle.  No  running  from  skirmishers,  and 
no  standing  against  a  line  of  battle.     You  hear  me?" 

Seeing  Mac  walking  boldly  over  to  his  post  on  the  left, 
Will  left  a  friendly  tree  from  which  he  had  been  peeping 
(like  the  privates),  and  made  his  way,  hurrying  and  stoop- 
ing, but  with  reasonable  coolness,  over  to  his  place  on 
the  right. 

Bang!  bang!  bang!  went  the  guns  of  his  men  near  the 
road,  the  very  point  he  was  making  for.  A  dozen  an- 
swering reports  came  from  the  front,  accompanied  by  the 
sound  of  flying  bullets,  one  of  which  seemed  to  have  been 
aimed  at  himself. 

"What  is  it,  Tom?"  j 

Tom  went  on  reloading  as  he  answered: 

"Looked  like  a  picket  guard,  Captain — just  a  squad  in 
the  road.  One  man  got  hit,  and  they  picked  him  up  and 
started  back." 

A  dead  silence  follows  this,  and  Fargeon  looks  at  his 
watch.  Four  o'clock.  It  will  be  dark  in  less  than  an 
hour — all  may  yet  "blow  over." 

No.  Before  4:  15  a  rattling  fire  made  itself  heard  from 
our  own  line,  far  on  K's  left.  It  was  rapid  and  simul- 
taneous, and  indicated  that  the  enemy  was  upon  them  in 
foice — no    mere    skirmish   line.     Scarcely  had   this  died 


THE    AFFAIR    ON    THE    RIGHT.  I93 

away  when  a  roar  of  confederate  musketry  from  K's 
front  set  all  doubts  at  rest.  It  was  certainly  a  regimen- 
tal volley.  Almost  immediately  the  men  at  his  end  of 
the  line  caught  glimpses  that  drew  their  fire,  and  they 
were  answered  by  another  volley,  fired  by  a  full  regiment 
apparently,  }'et  harmless. 

"Back  men!     Back!      Double-quick!" 

They  needed  no  second  order. 

Here  a  dreadful  thing  happened.  The  rear  companies 
of  the  Sixth  (in  echelon)  opened  fire,  and,  careful  not  to 
fire  on  each  other,  aimed  too  far  to  the  right  and  sent  a 
good  part  of  their  bullets  into  the  left  wing  of  Company 
K.  Curses  filled  the  air,  and  Mac  and  his  men,  thus 
taken  between  two  fires,  came  running  from  the  left  over 
to  Will's  quarter,  whence  all,  in  a  confused  mob,  made 
for  the  rear,  or  the  swamp,  or  any  place  where  they 
should  not  be  slaughtered  by  both  friend  and  foe. 

"Anybody  hurt,  Maci' 

"Jim  Flynn  killed  and  Harry  Planter  wounded." 

"Where's  Harry?" 

"The  rebs  have  got  him  by  this  time." 

"Good  God!" 

The  persistent  rattle  of  musketry  and  frequent  roar  of 
artillery  indicated  strong  fighting  along  the  front  of  the 
Union  line,  and  the  increasing  distance  of  the  sounds  made 
it  appear  that  the  enemy  was  gaining  some  ground. 
Time  passed  and  with  darkness  the  cruel  noise  died 
away. 

Company  K  was  scattered  widely  through  the  swamp, 
without  any  semblance  of  order,  each  man  hiding  or  try- 
ing to  get  farther  into  the  underbrush.  Will  and  Mac 
were  squatting,  concealed  in  a  spot  whence  they  had  seen 
the  enemy  in  considerable  numbers  passing  down  the  road, 
and  none  seemed  to  return.  They  would  have  lain  down, 
U 


194  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

but  the  standing  water  was  over  shoe-top  and  level  with 
the  snow.  When  the  enemy  had  passed  them  and  night 
was  near,  they  were  startled  by  a  noise  behind  them,  and 
Mac  hurriedly  drew  his  pistol  and  cocked  it. 

"Liftin'nt,  wud  ye  kindly  lind  me  a  hand?" 

It  was  Mark  Looney  who  approached,  dragging  his 
piece  with  his  right  hand,  while  his  left  was  buried  in 
his  breast. 

"It's  in  me  lift  arrum,  liftin'nt.  It  seems  to  be  blay- 
din'  bad,  an'  I'd  like  to  jist  git  a  bit  o'  stuff  'round  it." 
As  he  lowered  his  arm  the  fresh  blood  trickled  from 
his  sleeve. 

In  the  gathering  darkness  they  ministered  as  well  as 
they  could  to  the  poor  fellow's  needs,  while,  in  spite  of 
himself,  his  teeth  chattered  and  every  limb  shook  with 
pain,  cold  and  exhaustion.  The  blood  persisted  in  drip, 
drip,  dripping,  as  if  an  artery  had  been  cut. 

"Mac,  this  poor  boy' 11  die  in  the  water  and  snow. 
What  shall  we  do?" 

"The  road's  our  only  chance.  Let's  risk  it;  the 
enemy  is  off  now  for  a  while  at  any  rate." 

"Good  enough!      Can  you  walk,  Mark?" 

"I'll  thry,  sorr. "  And  he  did  try,  still  dragging  his 
musket,  until  Fargeon  insisted  on  taking  it  from  him. 

"Now,  Captain,"  said  Mac,  "give  me  the  gun,  and  you 
and  Mark  stay  back,  while  I  push  on  toward  the  rear. 
I'll  whistle  and  keep  whistling  all  the  while,  unless  I 
hear  or  see  something.  When  you  don't  hear  me  whistle, 
you  get  out  of  the  road." 

Mac  started  off,  and  Will  helped  Mark  along  as  best 
he  could,  the  wounded  man's  hard  breathing  growing 
shorter  and  harder  in  a  manner  that  showed  that  this 
march  of    his  would    be  a  short    one — perhaps  his  last. 

They  soon  lost  the  sound  of  Mac's  whistle,  and  shrank 


THE   AFFAIR   ON    THE    RIGHT.  1 95 

into  a  fence-corner  to  wait  for  the  foe.  None  came,  and 
they  concluded  that  Mac  had  overestimated  their  speed 
and  simply  walked  out  of  hearing.  It  was  now  almost 
dark;  still,  they  could  hardly  spend  the  night  there,  so 
they  began  to  stagger  slowly  down  the  road  once  more, 
and  accomplished  perhaps  another  quarter  mile  before 
Mark  gave  up  entirely. 

"Thankin'  ye  kindly,  Caftain,  for  all  your  goodness — 
I've  got  to  give  it  uf.  Ye' 11  fush  on,  av  ye  flaze;  and, 
caftain,  dayr,  there's  wan  or  two  things  in  me  focket  I 
always  kef  ready  for  whin  me  time  kem.  The  d'rec- 
tions  is  wrote  on  'em — ye' 11  see  when  ye  get  to  a  light." 

"Why,  Mark,  do  you  think  I'd  leave  you?" 

"Oah,  yis,  Caftain,  it  wouldn't  be  right  fer  ye  to  be 
took  fris'ner  along  wid  me — an'  it'd  be  no  good,  nayther. 
Noa,  it  wud  not." 

"Now,  Mark,  I'll  never  desert  you  while  I  live;  and  as 
to  being  taken  prisoners,  I'd  rather  see  you  and  me 
alive  in  the  enemy's  hands  than  dead  out  of  them.  So 
I  am  going  to  light  a  fire,  hit  or  miss,  rebels  or  no  rebels, 
capture  or  no  capture,  sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive 
or  perish;    here  goes  for  a  fire." 

The  darkness  was  now  impenetrable,  but  he  scraped 
away  the  wet  snow,  as  well  as  he  could,  from  a  sheltered 
nook,  while  Mark,  with  his  single  hand,  tried  feebly  to 
get  together  some  moderately  dry  fence  splinters,  and 
picked  up  a  few  dead  leaves  and  rubbed  them  on  his 
clothes. 

"Well,  my  boy,  those  feel  pretty  dry.  Now,  where  are 
your  matches?" 

"In  me  focket,  Caftain." 

"Why — your  pocket  feels  wet.  And  the  match-box 
feels  wet." 

"I  didn't  lay  down  on  that  side,"  wailed  the  sufferer, 


igd  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

who  had  taken  heart  of  grace  at  the  prospect  of  a  little 
warmth  and  light.  "Could  me  wownd  have  bled  onto 
'em?     Oah,   I'm  afrehd — I'm  afrehd  soa." 

"I  pray  God  they'll  light!" 

"Ah-min!  " 

Will  rubbed  a  patch  of  fence-rail  fiercely  with  his 
sleeve  to  dry  it,  selected  a  match  and  carefully  scraped 
it.  No  light.  But  that  might  be  an  accident.  Another 
careful  scrape — no  doubt  now  but  that  the  chemicals  had 
crumbled  off  unlighted;  he  could  feel  them  in  his  fingers. 
Another  match  he  tries  in  the  same  way,  with  the 
same  result,  while  Mark  grows  sick  and  sicker  with 
apprehension. 

"Thry  two  to  wanst,  Caftain, "  he  whispered,  vainly 
trying  to  steady  his  voice. 

No  result. 

"I  guess  I'll  try  one  on  the  inside  of  my  coat,  as  men 
light  their  pipes  in  the  wind." 

Vain  again,  and  vain  when  he  tried  a  dozen  in  similar 
fashion. 

"You  haven't  another  box,  have  you,  Mark?" 

"Nary  a  wan  at  all,  Caftain,  but  the  wan." 

"Now,  Mark,  you  take  these  three  matches  and  try 
them  together  on  the  inside  of  my  cap,  while  I  hold  it 
solid  with  both  hands." 

"The*  moight  burrn  yer  caf,  sorr!" 

"I  hope  they  will — then  we'll  have  a  fire  sure  enough." 

Mark's  trembling  fingers  only  made  the  same  desperate 
effort  that  so  often  failed  before,  and  it  failed  again. 

"Av  I  had  me  ould  musket  now — I'd  jest  break  a  cat- 
tridge — an'  lave  in  a  little  powdher  an'  thewaddin' — an' 
shoot  'em  into  some  laves — an'  the'd  burrn — the'  wud — 
Ochone  the'  wud — oah  the'  wud!"  [For  once  Mark's 
plaintive  diminuendo  was  appropriate  to  the  occasion.] 


THE    AFFAIR    ON    THE    RIGHT.  I97 

"Now,"  said  Will,  "I  think  I'll  save  the  rest  of  the 
matches  and  dry  them  before  we  risk  another  trial." 

He  said  it  in  as  cheerful  and  hopeful  a  tone  as  he 
could  command — even  unconsciously  forcing  a  false  smile 
in  the  darkness — all  to  keep  his  suffering  friend  from 
knowing  that  there  were  no  more.  Those  three  were 
the  last.  The  soldier's  life-blood  had  destroyed  the 
means  of  saving  his  life.  Mark  must  have  suspected 
that  the  matches  were  gone,  for  he  murmured  in  a  broken 
voice  "Ochone — Ochone." 

Then  Fargeon  laid  Mark  down  on  his  well  arm,  lay 
down  behind  him,  and  embraced  his  shivering  form, 
"snuggling  spoon-fashion,"  as  the  children  phrase  it. 
His  right  arm  was  under  Mark's  head;  his  left  strove  to 
make  one  coat  cover  them  both.  As  to  their  soaked  and 
benumbed  feet,  they  were  past  praying  for. 

"Caftain,  dayr, "  said  the  thin  voice,  grown  perceptibly 
weaker  even  since  it  spoke  last,  "d'ye  think  it's  much 
afther  midnight  by  this?" 

"Oh,  a  long  time!"  ("God  forgive  me — it's  not  nine 
yet.") 

Will  thought  the  sufferer's  weakness  had  brought  on 
hiccoughs,  but  soon  knew  that  these  were  half-suppressed 
sobs  that  he  heard  and  felt.  When  he  could  disguise 
them  no  longer,  Mark  burst  out: 

"Caftain,  dayr — ye'll  not  tell  the  byes  that  I  got  kilt 
with  a  dommed  scratch  afther  all,  comin'  from  our  own 
min — an'  died  a-cryin'  loike  a  ba-aby!" 

"Never!  I'll  tell  them  you  got  your  wound  like  a  sol- 
dier and  bore  it  like  a  man,  and  got  well  and  wore  shoul- 
der-straps, like  a  hero — as  you  deserve!" 

He  beat  the  poor  benumbed  bod}' and  limbs  and  hugged 
the  frowsy  head;  his  own  spirits  rising  in  this  congenial 
life-saving    task — rising    in    direct     proportion     to     the 


198  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

demands  making  on  them.  He  could  have  been  gay  and 
happy  if  it  weren't  for  his  feet. 

The  hours  of  that  night  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  dis- 
missed without  a  word;  for  a  chapter  or  a  volume  could 
not  depict  its  length  and  its  misery. 

Nature  sets  a  kindly  limit  to  distress,  by  the  interposi- 
tion of  a  barrier  of  insensibility,  which  says  to  pain, 
"Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  further;  "  and  this  mercy 
soon  came  to  Mark's  relief  and  he  ceased  to  suffer, 
though  not  to  moan  "Ochone"  and  shiver.  But  Fargeon 
remained  conscious  of  his  wretchedness.  A  text  came 
to  his  mind:  "In  my  Father's  house  is  enough  and  to 
spare,  while  I  perish  with  hunger." 

A  scene  rose  in  his  memory;  a  vision  of  the  warm  fire- 
side of  Mrs.  Penrose's  comfortable  dining-room;  a  fire 
in  the  grate;  whole  boxes  of  matches  on  the  mantel;  a 
bright  light  shining  on  Sara's  face  and  on  a  well-spread 
tea-table  redolent  with  good  things  to  eat  and  drink — all 
warm!  warm!  His  nostrils  expanded  to  inhale  the  aroma 
of  tea,  the  comforter,  only  to  find  themselves  filled  by 
the  smell  of  cold,  stale  tobacco  smoke  and  other  squalid 
things  hanging  about  poor  Mark's  hair  and  clothes. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


GRANT  TO  THE    RESCUE. 


LL  night  long,  at  stated  intervals,  the 
long,  low  thunderous  groan  of  a  gun- 
boat cannon  came  to  Will's  ears 
from  the  distant  river.  It  was  almost 
a  comfort — a  sign  of  life  in  the  midst 
of  awful  loneliness  and  desolation. 

After  midnight  the  stars  came  out 
and  the  cold  grew  more  bitter.  While 
Will  was  trying  to  accustom  himself  to  an  endless  dark- 
ness and  a  limitless  suffering,  three  figures  might  have 
been  seen  creeping  cautiously  along  the  edge  of  the  road, 
peering  sharply  into  it  and  into  the  neighboring  shadows. 
Two  carried  swords  and  one  a  musket.  One  of  the 
sword-bearers  was  whistling  low  and  constantly — 

"I  wonder  why  all  saints  don't  sing." 
the  tune  Mac  had  whistled  when  he  left  them  last  night. 
"Oh,  Mac!     God  bless  you,  Mac!     Is  that  you?" 
"Great  God,  Captain!     You  here?     And  alive  and  able 
to  speak  to  me?" 

McClintock,  Morphy,  and  Chipstone  were  the  angels  of 
succor.  But  how  inadequate  are  words  to  do  more  than 
dimly  suggest  the  flood  of  feeling  that  surged  up  in  their 
breasts  at  this  meeting!  All  were  visibly  moved;  even 
imperturbable  Mac  showed  emotion.  All — that  is,  except 
poor  Mark.  He  was  long  past  joy  or  pain.  Uncon- 
sciousness had  dropped  the  curtain   between  his   nerves 

109 


200  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

and  their  torturers,  and  if  help  had  not  come  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  he  would  ever  have  felt  another  pang.  Tenderly 
they  disengaged  Will  from  the  inanimate  Mark,  scarcely 
more  helpless  than  his  captain.  Joining  hands,  the  two 
lieutenants  raised  the  little  hero  between  them  in  the 
fashion  so  familiar  to  soldiers.  Corporal  Chipstone  took 
his  musket  on  his  left  shoulder,  passed  his  right  arm 
around  Will,  and  helped  him  forward  until  circulation 
was  somewhat  restored,  so  that  he  could  readily  keep 
pace  with  the  rest. 

A  fire!  A  blessed  fire!  A  heavenly  warmth — to  save 
life  and  restore  benumbed  flesh  and  blood,  and  bone, 
and  nerve,  and  brain!  How  he  coughs  and  sputters  the 
smoke,  as  he  hugs  the  blaze,  and  his  clothes  give  off 
clouds  of  vapor!  No  need  to  offer  food;  no  use  to  ask 
questions;  no  need  to  talk — nothing  but  sweet,  holy,  heav- 
enly warmth  now  for  a  long,  long  tin-je;  to  be  drunk  in 
at  every  pore,  with  eyes  closed  in  utter  comfort;  a  whiff 
or  two  from  the  pipe,  warm  and  moist  from  Mac's  lips 
— and,  at  last,  slumber — even  dear,  balmy,  blessed  sleep 
— steals  over  the  senses,  and  begins  the  repair  of  the 
most  ragged  and  frayed  edges  of  the  sufferer's  being. 

Yes,  it  is  not  another  of  those  false,  deceitful  dreams. 
It  is  a  real  fire  that  salutes  Will's  reopening  eyes.  Now 
they  may  give  him  a  toasted  bit  of  biscuit  and  talk  to 
him  slowly  and  distinctly,  asking  no  questions  yet.  So 
Mac  tells  of  his  walking  and  whistling,  and  his  turning 
back  and  searching  in  dismay  for  the  hidden  comrades; 
going  on  and  on  until  he  was  challenged  by  a  confeder- 
ate sentinel;  then  his  return  and  building  a  fire,  divided 
between  hope  that  they  had  got  over  to  their  friends,  and 
fear  that  they  had  been  taken  by  their  foes;  then  the 
final  effort  which  had  brought  the  joyful  rescue. 

Will  raised  himself  sufficiently  to  look  across  and  see 


GRANT   TO   THE    RESCUE.  201 

that  Chipstone  was  holding  Mark's  head  in  his  arms, 
while  his  shoes  were  steaming  beautifully  in  the  warmth 
of  the  fire. 

"Is  he  alive?" 

"Yes,"  said  wide-awake  Morphy.  "He  spoke  awhile 
ago — asked  where  you  were,  and  then  dropped  off  again 
with  that  same  little  smile  you  see  on  his  face  yet — if 
you  call  Mark's  smile  a  smile." 


Will  a  match  ever  again  seem  to  Will  like  a  simple 
stick  of  wood  and  chemicals?  Never!  It  will  always 
be  a  "Mark  Looney, "  a  humble  little  red-headed  soldier, 
ready  to  try  to  do  its  duty  and  perish  in  the  doing. 

"What's  that  light  over  there,  Morphy?" 

"Daybreak,  by  God!" 

"That's  so!"  cried  Mac,  starting  up  from  a  doze. 
"Come,  boys,  let's  get  over  toward  the  regiment." 

"Hadn't  you  better  go  on  ahead,  Mac,  and  see  that 
Company  K  gets  into  shape  and  gets  something  to  eat? 
I  guess  most  of  them  have  got  in." 

"Oh,  Captain — s'pose  you  send  Barney  to  do  that. 
I'd  rather  not  leave  you  and  Mark," 

So  Morphy  left  them,  and  they  roused  Mark  sufificiently 
to  get  him  to  eat  a  bit  of  biscuit,  toasted,  and  soaked 
with  snow-water  into  softness. 

Will  rose  with  difficulty,  and  left  the  blessed  fire  with 
regret,  a  long,  strong  shudder  seizing  on  him  as  he 
faced  the  morning  breeze.  He  thought  the  motion 
made  him  feel  colder  than  ever!  Mac  and  Chip  gripped 
hands  to  pass  under  Mark's  knees  and  gripped  elbows 
to  support  his  chest  under  his  arms. 

At  the  end  of  a  mile  or  so  of  difficult  walking,  they 
came  upon  a  pleasant  scene — Col.  Puller  and-the  regiment- 
al staff  gathered  near  a  fire  (a  full  half-mile    to  the  rear 


202  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K, 

of  yesterday's  line),  and  preparing  for  a  breakfast  al 
fresco,  from  which  repast  a  refreshing  odor  of  coffee 
and  fried  pork  saluted  their  eager  senses.  They  laid 
Mark  tenderly  down,  and  stretched  and  rubbed  their 
stiffened  arms. 

"Good  morning,  Colonel." 

"Good  morning,  sir." 

"We  began  to  think  we  should  never  see  a  friendly 
face  again,  or  smell  that  delicious  odor  of  Christian  food." 

"Where  is  your  company,  Capt'n  Fargeon,  and  why  are 
you  not  with  it — you  and  Lieutenant  McClintock.  !" 

"Company  K  was  scattered  and  driven  far  to  the  right 
by  the  fire  of  the  enemy  in  front,  and — I  am  sorry  to  say 
it,  Colonel — by  the  fire  of  your  own  command  in  our  rear." 

"I  learned  from  one  of  your  own  men — the  same  man 
by  whom  you  sent  me  a  very  curt  and  incomplete  report 
in  the  afternoon — that  your  company  retired  in  disorder 
before  the  enemy.  And  now,  after  a  large  part  of  it  has 
straggled  into  my  regiment, jj'^/^  appear;  you  and  your  first 
lieutenant  bring  up  the  extreme  rear — with  a  cock-and- 
bull  story  of  having  been  fired  on  by  your  own  regiment." 

Will  stood  dumfounded  by  this  assault. 

"Lieut.  McClintock,  have  yon  anything  to  say  in  expla- 
nation of  this  state  of  things?" 

The  lieutenant  silently  shook  his  head. 

"Both  you  gentlemen  will  go  to  3'our  quarters  in  ar- 
rest." 

"What!"  cried  Will 

"I  presume  you  understand  English,  Capt'n  Fargeon, 
and  that  you  know  your  duty  under  present  circum- 
stances." 

With  an  unmoved  face  and  undisturbed  voice  Mac 
said: 

"You  will  not  object,  Colonel,  to  our    carrying    Private 


GRANT    TO    THE    RESCUE.  2O3 

Looney  to  brigade  hospital  before  our  arrest  takes  effect?  " 

Puller  turned  to  consult  his  adjutant — his  monitor  in 
all  matters — and  then  said: 

"1  have  no  objection  to  your  caring  for  Private  What' s- 
his-name  or  any  other  private  business;  but  you  may  re- 
move your  swords  before  doing  so."  Then,  turning  to 
Chipstone:  "Take  the  swords  and  report  at  your  com- 
pany at  once." 

Silently  the  captain  and  lieutenant  took  off  their  swords 
and  handed  them  to  Chipstone.  Then  they  raised  un- 
conscious Mark  once  more  and  resumed  their  toilsome, 
labored  march  in  the  direction  of  the  hospital.  When 
they  were  out  of  hearing,  Mac  said  quietly: 

"Now,  what  do  you  think  about  Col.  Puller's  memory. 
Captain?"    But  Fargeon  walked  on  as  if  he  heard  not. 

At  length  they  saw  before  them  a  large  hospital  tent. 
They  walked  up  toward  the  open  door,  where  sat  a 
short,  dark  man  in  plain  clothes  and  a  slouch  hat,  smoking 
a  cigar.      Mac  began: 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir — why.  Captain — General 
Grant!"  and  he  stopped. 

"Good  morning,  sir.     Are  you  looking  for  me?" 

"No,  General,  we  are  looking  for  the  hospital.  This  is 
Capt.  Fargeon,  of  the  Sixth  Illinois.  I  am  Lieutenant 
McClintock,  of  the  same  regiment." 

"Ah,  McClintock.  Yes,  yes,  Mexico;  I  thought  I  knew 
you.  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Lieutenant,  and  to  know  you 
are  again  in  the  service." 

"General,  this  is  Mark  Looney,  whom  you  may  recol- 
lect." 

"Very  well,  indeed;  very  well,  indeed.  Is  Mark  badly 
hurt?  " 

"Severely,  not  dangerously — only  he  has  been  freezing 
and  starving  all  night.     We  were    picketing  on    the  ex- 


204  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

treme  right  and  were   driven  out  by  the  fire  of    our  own 
men  behind  us." 

"Ord'ly,  is  there  any  of  that  coffee  left?  Bring  three 
mugs  of  it  for  these  gentlemen."  He  stepped  up  to 
where  they  had  laid  down  Mark.  "Mark,  do  you  remem- 
ber your  old   lieutenant,  Grant?" 

Mark  nodded  and  smiled  slightly,  but  did  not  try  to 
speak. 

"Ord'ly,  give  Dr.  Hardy  my  compliments,  and  ask  him 
for  a  stretcher;  then  get  three  more  men  and  carry  this 
man  to  the  hospital." 

They  dipped  a  bit  of  biscuit  in  the  coffee  and  placed 
it  in  Mark's  mouth,  while  they  blew  and  sipped  their 
own  beverage  in  luxurious  refreshment. 

"I  haven't  heard  any  intelligent  account  of  the  affair 
on  our  right.      How  came  you  there,  and  what  occurred?" 

Will  gave  a  short,  lucid  statement  of  the  events  we 
have  narrated,  beginning  with  giving  Mac  full  credit 
for  the  suggestion  which  led  to  their  being  pushed  out, 
and  ending  with  the  disaster  they  had  met  with.  He 
did  not  say  that  they  had  rendered  any  especial  service, 
but  felt  that  the  older  soldier  must  see  that  such  was 
manifestly  the  case.  Grant  smoked  and  listened  in  utter 
silence;  not  even  an  occasional  grunt  of  recognition  in- 
dicating that  he  saw  the  whole  scene  as  it  had  occurred. 

"Where  are  your  swords?" 

"As  we  passed  regimental  headquarters.  Colonel  Puller, 
for  reasons  best  known  to  himself,  placed  us  both  in 
arrest." 

"And  had  you  give  him  your  swords?" 

"Not  exactly;  only  send  them  to  our  quarters,  while 
we  looked  out  for  Mark." 

[Puff,  puff.]  "Well,  gentlemen,  you  know  the  duty 
of  officers  in  arrest." 


GRANT   TO   THE    RESCUE.  205 

"Yes,  General;  we  are  on  our  way  to  our  quarters." 

"Good  day,   gentlemen!" 

"Good  day,  General." 

They  departed — but  we  will  remain. 

"Ord'ly,  give  Colonel  Puller,  of  the  Sixth  Illinois,  my 
compliments,  and  say  that  I  would  like  to  see  him  at 
twelve  o'clock." 

Then  the  general  strolled  over  to  the  hospital  and  had 
a  talk  with  Mark,  now  cared  for  and  comfortable. 

Colonel  Puller  arrived,  punctuallyto  the  moment,  in  full 
regimentals,  with  sword,  sash,  and  spurs,  much  excited 
and  pleased  by  the  summons,  and  primed  with  a  glowing 
account  of  his  own  services  of  the  previous  day.  He 
shook  hands  with  the  silent,  sphinx-like  figure  sitting  on 
the  camp-stool  (smoking  as  usual),  and  observed  that 
he  was  glad  to  see  General  Grant  looking  so  well. 

"Colonel,  in  advance  of  regular  reports  [puff,  puff],  I 
should  like  you  to  give  mean  account  of  the  affair  of  last 
night." 

"Well,  General,  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  give  you  one." 

[We  must  abbreviate.]  The  colonel  had  observed  that 
our  flank  was  unprotected,  and,  with  the  consent  of  his 
brigade  commander,  threw  his  regiment  into  echelon  of 
companies,  and  deployed  a  company  as  skirmishers  to  give 
warning  of  any  threatened  attack.  About  four  o'clock  the 
skirmishers  were  driven  in  with  some  loss,  and  then  the 
enemy  made  a  most  furious  and  premeditated  attack 
upon  that  part  of  the  line.  P'or  over  an  hour  we  with- 
stood the  onslaught  of  vastly  superior  numbers,  repelling 
one  assault  after  another  in  the  most  determined  man- 
ner, completely  decimating  their  ranks,  while  our  own 
losses,  though  considerable,  were  small  by  comparison. 
Finally  the  enemy  retired  in  confusion,  almost  deci- 
mated. Darkness  prevented  the  pursuit  which  the  colonel 


206  THE  CAPTAIN  OP  COMPANY    K. 

had  planned,  not  only  to  order,  but  to    lead    in    person. 

[Puff,  puff.]  "What  kind  of  country  did  you  find  on 
your  right?" 

The  colonel  had  found  a  road  bordered  on  the  far  side 
by  a  swamp. 

"Did  you  go  out  to  see  what  your  reconnoissance  had 
developed?"     The  colonel  did  not. 

"Did  you  send?"  No;  the  commander  of  the  skirmish 
company  had  reported  very  fully. 

[Puff,  puff.]  "Did  the  enemy  use  the  road  in  an  effort 
to  take  us  by  surprise?"  The  colonel  thought  that  they 
had  marched  nearly  their  whole  force  to  that  point  with 
that  purpose. 

"What  prevented  them  from  succeeding — as  the  troops 
that  were  to  fill  the  gap  failed  to  reach  there?"  The 
fire  of  the  skirmishers,  which  the  colonel  had  placed 
there  for  that  very  purpose,  succeeded  by  the  fire  of  his 
echelon  companies,  and,  later,  by  the  other  regiments  of 
the  brigade. 

"The  skirmishers  did  well,  then?"  Up  to  that  point, 
admirably,  in  accordance  with  the  colonel's  orders.  But 
later,  when  seriously  attacked,  they  fled  in  confusion. 

"The  skirmish  line  retired  before  the  attack  of  a  line 
of  battle?"     The  colonel  regretted  to  say  that  they  did. 

[Puff,  puff.]  "When  did  you  learn  this?"  The  colonel 
was  apprised  as  soon  as  it  transpired. 

"Before  the  engagement  began?"  At  the  very  begin- 
ning of  it. 

"From  whom?"  From  a  member  of  the  skirmishing 
company. 

"The  first  man  of  them  to  report?"  The  very  first. 
The  colonel  had  felt  obliged  to  place  in  arrest  the  cap- 
tain and  first  lieutenant. 

[Puff,  puff.]     "Did  you  so  direct  the  fire  of  your  right 


'Ik  ■  Vt 


"My  remarks  are  not  drifting,  Colonel." — Page  208. 


207 


208  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

flank  company  as  not  to  injure  your    own    skirmishers?" 
The  colonel  had  trusted  to  their  own  judgment  for  that. 

"Did  you  tell  them  where  you  had  placed  your  skir- 
mishers? Did  you  give  any  orders  or  take  any  steps  to 
avoid  shooting  your  own  men?"  The  colonel  could  not 
quite  follow  the  drift  of  General  Grant's  remarks, 

[Puff,  puff.]  "Myremarks  are  not  drifting,  Colonel  Pul- 
ler. You  seem  to  have  sent  out  a  company  of  skirmish- 
ers to  reconnoiter,  and  not  to  have  gone  or  sent  to  learn 
what  they  found  out;  then  to  have  left  your  line  of  bat- 
tle uninstructed  as  to  their  duty  regarding  those  skir 
mishers,  wherefrom  disaster  resulted  to  them;  then  to 
have  placed  two  deserving  officers  under  arrest  upon  the 
unsupported  statement  of  one  skulker." 

The  silence  that  followed  this  was  marked — almost 
obtrusive.     The  quiet  veteran  smoked  on  unmoved. 

"Have  you  anything  further  to  add,  sir?" 

The  unhappy  colonel  choked  and  gasped  for  breath, 
but  was  speechless. 

"Mr.  Badger,  one  moment,  if  you  please.  Be  kind 
enough  to  write  a  general  order"  [Puff  puff].  "'Captain 
Fargeon  and  Lieutenant  McClintock,  of  the  Sixth  Illi- 
nois Volunteer  Infantry,  having  rendered  distinguished 
service  in  the  affair  of  yesterday,  and  having  been  unad- 
visedly placed  in  arrest  by  the  colonel  of  their  regiment, 
are  released  from  arrest  and  restored  to  duty.'  Have 
that  repeated  and  sent  out  at  once — or  stay.  ColonelPuUer 
should  you  think  proper  to  demand  a  court  of  inquiry  on 
your  part  in  this  matter,  I  will  readily  grant  your  request 
and  make  it  part  of  the  same  order." 

"Ge — General  Grant — I  beg  for  time  to  talk  with  my 
brother  officers." 

"Very  well,  sir.  Good  morning,  sir.  Send  out  the 
order,  Mr.  Badger." 


GRANT    TO    THE    RESCUE.  20g 

The  Sixth,  still  shelterless,  had  been  provided  with 
axes  during  the  day,  and  was  now  building  for  itself  a 
long,  double  line  of  "brush-houses,"  made  of  boughs  sup- 
ported on  poles  held  up  by  crotched  sticks— a  poor  camp 
but  better  than  none;  far  better,  even  in  case  of  rain. 
In  front  of  one  of  these  hovels,  at  a  good  fire  (for  it 
seemed  as  if  they  would  nevermore  be  tired  of  warming 
themselves),  sat  Fargeon  and  McClintock,  brooding  over 
the  coals  and  their  own  wrongs. 

To  them  arrived  Colonel  Puller  in  trembling  haste. 

"Captain!  and  Lieutenant!"  (extending  a  hand  to  each 
which  they  failed  to  notice).  "You'll  be  glad  to  hear  (but 
not  half  so  glad  as  I  am  to  say  it)  that  I  find  that  I  was 
entirely  misinformed  regarding  your  share  in  last  night's 
action! — entirely!  I  ought  to  have  thanked  you  instead 
of — doing  what  I  did." 

They  were  as  unresponsive  as  Grant  himself. 

"Now,  I  want  you  to  regard  those  few  words  as  unsaid 
— forget  them  as  if  they  had  never  been  said.  You  are 
relieved  from  arrest  and  restored  to  duty." 

After  a  pause,  Mac  spoke: 

"Thank  you,  ColonelPuUer.  I  believe  we  prefer  to  de- 
mand a  court  of  inquiry." 

"Oh, Lieutenant — oh, Capt'n  Fargeon — don't,  I  beg  and 
pray,  dori' t  ruin  me!  What  will  be  said  at  home?  Where 
would  it  place  me  in  the  eyes  of  my  congressional  dis- 
trict— all  for  a  hasty  word  or  two?" 

"Unpremeditated  was  it.  Colonel  Puller!  " 

"Premeditated!  My  dear  lieutenant,  what  can  you 
mean?" 

The  colonel  laughed  uneasily,  while  an  added  flush 
showed  that  the  shot  had  not  missed. 

No,  the  gentlemen  did  not  care  to  smoke.  And  they 
would  prefer  not  to  dine  with  the  colonel's  mess,  under 
H 


2IO  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

the  circumstances.  Besides, Captain  Fargeon  could  hardly 
stand  on  his  feet.  Yes,  he  should  be  glad  of  a  call  from 
the  regimental  surgeon. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  gentlemen,  I  have  had  a  little 
talk  with  General  Grant — a  very  nice  talk  on  the  whole 
— and  he  has  consented  to  issue  a  general  order  speaking 
highly  of  you,  and  relieving  370U  from  arrest." 

The  others  straightened  up  in  their  seats,  leaned  for- 
ward, stretched  out  their  arms  and  shook  hands — with 
each  other. 

"Now,  gentlemen — Lieutenant, you  know  I  am  not  up  in 
military  verbiage  as  you  are — I  suppose  you  can't  per- 
sist in  5'our  own  arrest  after  being  relieved  in  general 
orders." 

"Well,  Colonel  Puller,  we  are  not  officially  apprised  of 
our  relief  until  the  general  order  has  been  read  aloud 
before  every  regiment  at  dress-parade." 

The  colonel  departed,  very  downcast,  and  forthwith 
made  his  own  headquarters  a  little  purgatory,  and  his 
adjutant  temporarily  sorry  he  had  ever  been  born.  But 
the  adjutant  (who  privately  hated  his  colonel)  got  fully 
even  with  him  at  dress-parade  that  very  afternoon,  as  the 
next  chapter  will  show. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE    FORLORN   HOPE. 


IT  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  the  deep  indig- 
nation the  men  of  Company  K  felt  when 
they  learned  of  the  vile  treatment  meted 
out  to  their  officers.  There  were  symptoms 
of  a  roaring  row  when  Will  and  Mac  de- 
jectedly approached  the  laboring  com- 
pany. Wild  cheers  greeted  them,  fol- 
lowed by  resounding  groans  unmistakably 
meant  for  the  objectionable  colonel.  By 
great  effort  the  arrested  officers  calmed 
the  tumult,  and  got  the  men  to  give  to 
poor,  unoffending  Morphy  the  obedience 
-/^li  rW  ^^    ^^^   '^    right    to    as   the    commanding 

"^Jy  IS^  officer,  and  deserved  as   a  good    one  and 

a  good  fellow. 

Four  o'clock  p.  m.  arrived,  and  with  it 
dress-parade,  and  with  dress-parade  the 
reading  out  of  general  orders.  Now  came 
the  adjutant's  revenge.  He  read  out  the 
expiatory  order  so  that  nearly  everybody 
could  hear  it;  then  paused  for  the  cheers 
which  he  knew  would  follow.  Follow  they  did,  beginning 
with  Company  K,  and  spreading  until  the  whole  regi- 
ment had  take  them  up;  Company  A,  which  had  com- 
mitted the  cruel  blunder  while  in  echelon  the  day  before, 

211 


212  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

showing  special  anxiety  to  make  themselves  once  more 
"solid  with  K. " 

"Colonel,"  whispered  the  adjutant,  "it  would  now  be 
proper  to  send  for  the  captain  and  lieutenant  before  pro- 
ceeding with  the  parade." 

Colonel  Y.  R.  Puller's  Curses,  "not  loudbut  deep,"  must 
be  omitted.  Fargeon  and  McClintock  were  summoned 
and  arrived,  the  captain  leaning  heavily  on  his  lieutenant 
and  on  a  stout  stick.  Yet  both  men  looked  handsome, 
dignified,  and  business-like  as  they  were  led  up  to  the 
colonel,  who  shook  their  hands  with  misplaced  effusion 
while  the  cheers  were  renewed,  K  going  quite  wild  when 
they  rejoined  its  ranks,  the  men  tossing  their  caps  and 
catching  them  on  bayonet-points  in  a  general  scramble. 

Puller,  as  colonel  of  the  Sixth,  was  essentially  "done 
for."  Still  he  floundered  and  struggled  a  good  deal.  At 
the  headquarters  mess  that  evening  he  tried  the  force  of 
eloquence. 

"Fellow-comrades,  the  more  I  think  of  the  way  we've 
been  tampered  with  by  General  Grant,  the  more  I  don't 
like  it.  How  are  we  to  maintain  any  espi'itt  dee  corpse  in 
our  regiment  if  our  best  efforts  are  to  be  prostituted  by 
having  such  a  stamina  put  upon  them?" 

His  staff  did  not  know. 

"I  would  suggest,"  said  the  lieutenant-colonel,  "that 
you  either  resign  or  ask  for  a  court  of  inquiry."  [The 
lieutenant-colonel  was  wild  to  get  command  of  the  regi- 
ment.] 

"Yes,"  said  the  major,  "that  might  give  Gen.  Grant  a 
lesson."      [The  major   wanted  to  be    lieutenant-colonel.] 

"And  if  Grant  were  out  of  the  way,  you  ought  to  get  a 
brigade,"  put  in  the  adjutant.  [He  also  longed  for  a 
step  in  rank.] 

"Well,    fellow-comrades,  "    answered    the   colonel,  who 


THE    FORLORN    HOPE.  213 

fully  appreciated  the  feelings  animating  his  subordinates, 
"I'll  think  it  over.  It  might,  as  you  say,  give  General 
Grant  a  lesson  regarding  such  high-minded  outrages 
attempting  to  be  put  upon  volunteer  officers  by  regular 
officers.  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  the  matter  went 
to  Washington.  If  the  government  declines  to  take  it 
up,  Congress  could  very  likely  be  induced  to  do  so.  I 
know  one  thing,  and  that  is,  that  if  /  were  in  the  halls 
of  legislation  every  volunteer  officer  in  service  might  be 
sure  of  one  voice  that  would  never  bend  the  knee,  one 
tongue  that  would  never  bow,  one  hand  that  would  never 
be  silent,  where  they  needed  the  protection  from  the 
overweening,  high-minded  pertubation  of  West  Point!" 

Next  day  a  general  advance  is  made  on  all  parts  of  the 
line  not  already  in  contact  with  the  enemy's  works.  The 
Sixth  gets  more  than  a  mile  forward,  and  begins  a  paral- 
lel; and  the  "flank  in  the  air"  now  rests  solidly  on  the 
river  above  (southward  of)  Fort  Donelson,  just  as  the 
other  flank  rests  solidly  on  the  same  river  below  (north- 
ward of)  the  fort.  A  semi-circle  of  converging  fire  is 
narrowing  about  the  doomed  foe.  A  confederate  battery 
low  down  on  the  river-bank  makes  sad  work  with  the 
gun-boats,  but  still  they  keep  "pegging  away,"  and  com- 
mand the  river  sufficiently  to  make  the  escape  of  any 
considerable  body  impossible;  though  the  confederate 
Gen.  Floyd  and  a  few  more  do  get  across,  leaving  Gen. 
Buckner  to  bear  alone  the  burden  of  defeat  and  ruin. 

Will  moves  with  his  company,  or  at  least  not  far  away 
from  it,  though  his  legs  and  feet  are  very  stiff  and 
painful. 

In  the  advance  of  the  command  they  find  the  body  of 
poor  Jim  Flynn,  stripped  to  his  very  socks.  They  bury 
the  hapless  martyr;  and  the  burial  party,  by  Mac's 
orders,  refuse   to  say   whether  the    fatal  bullet   came  to 


214  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

him  from  the  front  or  rear.  Harry  Planter  has  disap- 
peared as  utterly  as  the  pork  and  coffee — and  Company 
K's  blankets.  

No  lack  of  news  along  the  line  on  Saturday,  February 
15,  1862.  A  flag  has  come  in  from  Gen.  Buckner,  bearing 
proposals  for  capitulation  and  asking  terms.  Grant  has 
named  "unconditional  surrender,"  adding,  "I  propose  to 
move  at  once  upon  your  works." 

During  the  engagement  on  the  right,  Smith's  division 
on  the  left  had  dashed  in  and  taken  a  line  of  the  enemy's 
outworks;  and  now  the  division  to  which  our  friends 
belong  has  been  brought  round  and  massed  in  that  (re- 
versed) entrenchment,  in  grim  preparation  for  deliver- 
ing an  assault  on  the  main  works,  if  it  shall  be  needful. 

Strange  to  say,  this  change  in  what  he  called  "the  situ- 
ation" did  not  make  Colonel  Puller  any  more  contented 
with  his  lot.  Even  the  rare  privilege  of  leading  (that 
is  to  say,  following)  his  men  up  that  deadly  slope — per- 
haps underlaid  with  hidden  percussion  shells,  certainly 
swept  by  a  storm  of  missiles — failed  to  calm  his  spirit, 
perturbed  by  the  official  snub  he  had  received.  But  just 
how  to  reopen  the  subject  he  did  not  quite  see. 

His  lieutenant-colonel — one  Isaacs,  a  "politician,"  yet 
a  brave  fellow  and  really  a  fine  officer,  who  had  served 
in  the  state  militia — saved  him  the  trouble  by  leading 
up  to  it  himself. 

"Well,  Colonel,  what  did  General  Grant  say?" 

"Why,  Isaacs,  I  haven't  moved  in  the  matter — yet." 

"Now,  if  I  were  you,  Colonel,  I  wouldn't  hesitate.  Go 
in  boldly — heroically,  I  may  say — throw  aside  all  fear  of 
consequences — beard  the  lion  in  his  den." 

The  doughty  colonel  tapped  the  table  with  his  knife, 
considering  how  he  could  best — that  is  to  say,  most  re- 
luctantly— follow  the  advice. 


THE    rORLORN    HOPE.  215 

"You  know,  gentlemen,  that  I  would  rather  lead  that 
storming  party  a  thousand  times — yes,  I  speak  within 
bounds  and  mean  what  I  say;  would  rather  lead  one 
thousand  storming  parties — than  do  what  you   sudgest." 

"Oh,  we  know  all  about  that!"  protested  Isaacs,  with 
only  a  scarcely  preceptible  wink  at  the  major.  Then  he 
went  on: 

"You  know,  Colonel,  this  may  be  your  last  chance  to 
render  this  service  to  your  country.  A  bullet  in  your 
body  this  afternoon  wouldn't  help  the  cause  a  mite,  while 
a  word  spoken  in  season  might  lead  to  great  results." 

"It  will  stir  up  a  good  deal  of  a  foment.  But  if  you 
consider  it  a  matter  of  duty — " 

"Duty  before  pleasure,  every  time!  Move  on  General 
Grant  rather  than  on  Fort  Donelson.  If  the  whole  volun- 
teer force  is  to  be  made  into  a  door-mat  for  the  regulars 
to  wipe  their  feet  on,  why,  we  want  to  know  it! — that's 
all!" 

"I'll  do  it!"  said  the  colonel,  with  fierce  determina- 
tion. And  he  strode  forth,  courage  and  self-sacrifice  ex- 
pressed in  the  very  squeak  of  his  boots. 

"Maje,  my  boy!  that  makes  me  colonel  of  the  Sixth! 
And  like  enough  this  afternoon  will  make  me  an  angel, 
and  you  the  colonel!" 


"General  Grant,  on  interviewing  my  fellow-comrades, 
I  am  advised  that  it  is  best  to  take  up  with  your  sudges- 
tion,  report  myself  in  arrest,  and  ask  a  court  of  inquiry 
regarding  what  we  consider  your  very  high-minded  sub- 
vention in  the  discipline  of  my  regiment." 

"Well,  Colonel  (puff,  puff),  you  can  have  your  court 
(puff,  puff),  but  I  do  not  insist  upon  your  arrest  meanwhile 
{puff,  puff)^     You  may  return  to  your  regiment  (puff), 


2l6  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

and  I  will  order  the  court."  [An  infinite  succession  of 
puffs.] 

"Excuse  me,  General,  but  under  the  stamina  of  your 
general  order  I  cannot  consistently  appear  at  the  head 
of  my  regiment." 

"Return  to  duty,  Colonel  Puller,  you  are  not  m  arrest." 

"General  Grant,  as  a  protest  against  such  a  stamina  as  it 
has  been  to  me  to  hear  that  order  read  at  dress-parade, 
I  would  rather  resign  my  commission  than  continue  in 
command  pending  my  justification." 

"Let  your  resignation  come  up  through  the  proper 
channels,  and  I  shall  act  upon  it." 

The  doughty  colonel  thought  all  went  off  pretty  well; 
only  once,  when  he  repassed  a  tent  where  he  had  already 
called,  he  was  disturbed  by  hearing  loud  laughter  with- 
in, scarcely  in  keeping  with  the  seriousness  of  the  occa- 
sion. Then,  too,  his  sensitive  ear  seemed  to  detect 
snorts  of  merriment  as  he  passed  groups  of  privates  of 
his  own  Sixth  Illinois  Regiment,  standing,  sitting,  crouch- 
ing, lying,  or  lounging  in  the  wet,  muddy,  dismal,  ill- 
smelling,  deadly  earth-work. 

"Old  Wire-puller  knows  which  side  his  bread  is  but- 
tered on.     He  wants  to  go  home  and  not  wait  for  any  pie. " 

"I  knovved  Wire-puller  was  a  politician,  quick  as  I 
seed  how  his  e3'es  bug  out." 

"He  reminds  me,"  said  Tolliver,  perhaps  the  wittiest 
man  in  the  regiment,  "of  a  house  that's  all  front  door — 
the  minute  you  lift    the -latch  you're  in  the    back  yard." 

All  laughed.  In  fact,  all  were  accustomed  to  laugh 
whenever  Tolliver  spoke.  As  soon  as  they  saw  his  right 
eyebrow  mount  to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  while  his  left 
drooped  so  that  the  bright  glance  could  be  but  barely 
seen  through  its  shadows,  they  knew  "suth'n  wuz  a- 
comin'." 


THE    FORLORN    HOPE.  217 

"Ah,  yah!     Say,  fellers,  why  don't  we  all  resign?" 

"I'm  only  sorry  for  one  thing,  an'  that  is  that  I  never 
thought  to  enlist  as  a  major-general,  instead  of  a  high 
private  in  the  front  rank.  Now  thar's  ole  Grant — ain't 
it  awful  easy  for  him  to  assault  Donelson — 'move  on 
your  works' — him  a-holdin'  down  a  camp-stool,  away  out 
of  range  in  the  rear?" 

"Oh,  you  dry  up,  Jeff  Cobb!  Pie's  in  the  right  place, 
and  the  right  man  in  the  right  place  too." 

"Well,  Chip,  I  s'pose  so.  But  do  you  know  what  I 
think  when  I  read  the  papers?  I  think  the  folks  at  home 
are  a-makin'  a  leetle  mistake.  They  think  he  is  where 
we  are,  and  we  are  where  he  is.  Now,  there's  him 
drawin'  steenty-steen  thousand  a  year,  on  a  camp-stool, 
out  of  range;  and  here's  me,  all  the  same  except  the 
money,  the  camp-stool,  and  the  range.  I  can  find  plenty 
in  print  about  the  brave  and  heroic  Gen.  Ulysses  S. 
Grant,  but  nary  a  word  about  the  brave  and  heroic 
Private  Thomas  Jefferson  Cobb." 

"Don't  you  be  scairt,  Jeff.  Your  name' 11  be  in  the  pa- 
pers soon  enough." 

"Ya-as — but  it  won't  be  in  the  head-lines.  Them  noos- 
paper  colyumes  is  like  a  coal-shute."  [Jeff  was  a  miner.] 
"The  big  chunks  go  thunderin'  down  on  top  of  the  screen 
whilst  the  little  ones  slip  down  through,  'most  out  of 
sight,  in  the  lists  of  killed  an'  wounded." 

"Wal,  it's  all  one — er  will  be  in  a  hundred  years." 

"Ya-as — only  there'  11  be  more  Grants  and  fewer  Cobbs. " 

Will  got  an  ambulance  to  carry  him  as  near  to  the 
earth-work  as  wheels  could  go;  then  a  couple  of  men 
helped    him  to  hobble  to  his  post. 

"Captain,  you  belong  in  the  hospital,  not  in  the  as- 
saulting column." 


2l8  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Yes,  Mac,  I  suppose  so.  My  knees  and  ankles  do  feel 
pretty  queer." 

"What  does  the  doctor  say?" 

"'Inflammatory  rheumatism'  was  the  sweet  little 
speech  he  got  off  when  he  made  his  examination." 

"What  would  he  say  about  your  spending  the  night  in 
a  trench — or  even  in  the  brush-house?" 

"Probably  'fool,'  with  a  past  participle  before  it." 

"Well — why  don't  you  go  along  to  the  hospital?" 

"And  give  General  Grant  a  lesson?  " 

"Ha,  ha!    No,  not  exactly.   Give  yourself  a  rest." 

"We'll  see  when  the  job  is  done." 

And  he  looked, anxiously  across  the  space  they  would 
have  to  charge  over. 

He  was  dreadfully  frightened.  He  could  not  see  how 
it  was  possible  to  live  through  an  advance  across  that 
rising  ground  and  reach  that  horrid  inner  line  of  works 
under  a  plunging  fire  of  musketry  and  artillery  coming 
from  them  and  from  the  fort  itself,  visible  beyond  them. 
True,  our  artillery  had  silenced  the  fire,  and  could  si- 
lence it  again  whenever  it  broke  out;  but  our  artillery 
must  be  silent  when  the  assault    is  made.     And  then — 

Why  should  he  go?  He  was  surely  a  very  sick  man; 
nobody  on  earth  who  knew  his  condition  would  say  it 
was  his  duty — nobody  except  himself. 

If  he  were  fearless,  like  Mac  or  Mark  Looney,  he 
wouldn't  go.  But  now,  afraid  as  he  was,  he  tnusi.  He 
dared  not  stay  behind,  for  fear  it  should  be  from  the 
wrong  motive. 

And  then  his  dear  boy? — how  could  he  see  them  leave 
him  and  run  into  that  maelstrom  of  mortality  without 
him?  How  could  he  see  them  go  down,  one  by  one,  and 
blot  the  ground  with  dreadful  little  blue  heaps,  he  not 
even  knowing  which  men  were  dead  and  dying?    And  how 


THE    FORLORN    HOPE.  2ig 

explain  to  the  rest  of   the  world  why  his  life  was  saved 
when  the  others  fell?     He  heaved  a  great  sigh: 

"I'll  be  with  you,  Mac,  when  you  start,  anyhow." 

"Well,  Captain,  I  s'pose  it's  no  use  talking.  But  prom- 
ise me  one  thing;  that  if  we  don't  assault  to-day — and 
it  begins  to  look  as  if  we  shouldn't — you'll  go  to  the  hos- 
pital for  the  night." 

Will  gave  a  reluctant  consent  to  this,  and  when  it  be- 
came evident  that  "it,"  would  not  be  to-night,  he  let  the 
ambulance  carry  him  back  to  the  hospital. 

"Good  enough!"  said  Mac  to  Morphy.  "Now  ten  to 
one  the  assault  will  be  ordered  for  daybreak,  and  be  over 
before  Cap  knows  anything  about  it." 

The  men  were  allowed  to  go  back  to  their  tents  and 
shelters  to  eat  and  sleep.  Reveille  would  sound  at  five 
(breakfast  to  be  m.ade  ready  beforehand);  the  whole  army 
being  called  to  arms  to  support  the  assaulting  division 
when  it  had  effected  a  lodgment,  or  to  receive  its 
bloody  fragments  if  it  failed.  The  division  was  to  be  in 
the  outwork  at  six,  field  and  staff  on  foot,  men  in  light 
marching  order — no  blankets,  no  knapsacks,  no  haver- 
sacks—nothing but  arms,  ammunition,  and  canteens,  full 
of  whisky  and  water  if  they  wished  it.  They  were  raw 
soldiers,  but  v/ell  they  knew  what  all  that  meant — chosen 
victims,  fatted  and  decked  for  sacrifice! 

Half  the  men  of  the  Sixth  were  writing  letters  that 
night.  Pens  and  ink,  pencils  and  paper  were  borrowed 
and  lent  on  all  sides.  Candles  stuck  in  bayonet  sockets 
were  flaring  everywhere.  No  guard  detail  was  demanded. 
Nobody  found  any  fault  with  anything  they  did.  Sur- 
geons, chaplains,  and  other  friends  were  burdened  with 
dingy  letters  and  little  packages,  to  be  reclaimed  to-mor- 
row night  or  forwarded  as  addressed.  Watches,  keep- 
sakes,   money,    photographs — anything  and  everything  a 


220  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

man  does  not  care  to  have  buried  with  him  or  stolen 
from  his  body  by  the  foe — were  laid  out  for  the  dear 
ones  at  home.  God!  If  I  wanted  to  magnify  the  pathos 
of  all  this,  what  could    I    say  that  would  not  belittle  it? 

It  seemed  as  if  almost  as  soon  as  the  camp  had  put  on 
its  night-quiet  the  company  cooks  were  at  work  at  the 
breakfast  ration;  and  not  long  afterward  the  bugle  at 
headquarters  and  the  drums  and  fifes  of  the  doomed  reg- 
iments sounded  the  call  to  the  opening  of  the  dreadful 
Sunday.  Then  by  degrees,  yet  rapidly,  men  began  to 
gather  around  the  camp-fires  and  prepare  themselves  for 
the  work  before  them. 

"Say,  fellers,  what's  the  use  of  eatin'  so  much?  Jest 
wastin'  good  victuals  an'  makin'  more  work  for  the  bury- 
in'   squads." 

"Oh,  yes,  Hiram — but  I  notice  you  don't  hang  back 
from  the  pot  none  to  speak  of!  If  you'd  put  all  that 
stuff  outside  instead  of  inside,  no  bullet  wouldn't  never 
hurt  ye!" 

"Well,  ye  see,  Jeff,  I'm  built  like  a  camel — got  three 
stomachs;  one  for  ornament,  one  for  use,  an'  one  for 
some  other  time." 

"Ah,  yah!  Th'  ornamental  one  must  be  the  insidest 
one  of  all!" 

"Oh,  Lord,  boys — I  wish  I  was  in  dad's  barn!" 

"Wha'd  ye  want  t'  be  in  the  barn  fer,  Jeff?" 

"Why,  ye  see,  't  ain't  more'n  twenty  rods  from  the 
"  barn  to  the  house,  'n'  I  could  jest  run  inter  mammy's 
room  an'  hide  under  the  bed." 

"There's  the  long  roll!  Boys,  say  yer  prayers.  Some- 
body say  one  fer  me,  so  I  kin  go  on  eatin'." 

"Fall  in,  Company  K!     Fall  in!      Fall  in!" 

"Oh,  yes,"  cried  Jeff  Cobb,  the  irrepressible,  "we'll  be 
a  fallin'  in  in  about  an  hour's  time."     Then  he  began  to 


THE    FORLORN    HOPE.  221 

sing    in  a    sentimental    treble,  "I  would    I  were    a    boy 
again." 

Jeff's  voice  was  as  unmusical  as  can  be  possibly  imag- 
ined. No  sooner  had  he  begun  to  sing  than  Tolliver  in- 
terrupted him. 

"Say,  Jeff;  half  a  minute,  please,  before  you  go  on. 
Have  you  got  a  house  of  your  own?" 

"Not  that  anybody  knows  of,  so  far  as  heerd  from. 
Why?" 

"Why,  if  I  were  you,  I'd  build  one — a  nice  brick  house 
in  a  nice  big  lot." 

"Some  burn  of  yours,  Tolly?  Well,  my  son,  drive  on 
about  the  house  and  lot." 

"Well,  Jeff,  I'd  work  it  this  way.  You  just  go  to  any 
vacant  spot  and  begin  to  sing.  Nobody  will  ever  try  to 
serve  a  warrant  on  you." 

"You  won't,  Tolly,  A  man  of  your  size!  You  won't 
try  any  such  job  on  me — not  while  you're  sober." 

"And  so,  Jeff,  you'd  have  your  ground,  all  O  K, 
don't  you  see?  Now  for  the  bricks.  All  you've  got  to 
do  is  just  go  on  singing  and  there'll  be  enough  bricks 
thrown  at  you  to  build  a  palace!" 

Amid  the  chorus  of    laughter    could    be    heard    Jeff's 
voice,  louder  and  more  raucous  than  ever: 
"I  would  I  were  a  boy  again." 
Once  more  Tolliver  interrupted: 

"Oh,  shucks!  What's  the  use  of  wouldin*  ye  was  a 
boy?  /would  /were  a  leetle,  teenty-taunty  gal-baby!" 
Slowly  and  gropingly  the  regiments  found  their  way 
in  the  dark  to  the  now  familiar  ditch;  lay  down,  or  sat, 
or  squatted,  to  wait  for  dawn  and  the  order  to  advance. 
Now,  past  the  reserves,  past  brigade  headquarters, 
past  the  brush  houses,  past  the  cooks'  fires,  past  the 
ambulances  and  litter-bearers  waiting  for  their  sad  work. 


222  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

past  the  intervening  space  of  darkness,  comes  a  little 
procession — four  men  carrying,  on  a  litter,  a  fifth,  an 
officer  In  uniform  with  sword  and  sash.  The  men 
stopped  chatting  and  watched  with  curious  eyes  the  ad- 
vancing group.     The  recumbent  form  raises  its  head: 

"Is  this  Company  K,  of  the  Sixth  Illinois?" 

It  is  Fargeon's  voice,  and  a  loud-answering  "He-igh"is 
the  response. 

"Well,  Mac,  I'm  glad  to  see  you." 

"Well,  Captain,  I'm  sorry  to  see  you — first  time  in 
my  life,  too." 

"Oh,  now,  Mac,  you  mustn't  be  jealous  about  my 
commanding  K  once  more.  You'll  have  a  chance  before 
noon,  like  as  not.'' 

"I  hope,  Capt'n  Fargeon,  you'll  command  it  as  long  as 
I'm  in  it — unless  you  get  promoted  and  go  higher." 

"That's  what  I  look  for,  Mac — a  big  promotion  that'll 
take  me  out  of  your  way  for  good." 

They  shook  hands,  and  each  could  see,  by  the  light  of 
Mac' s  pipe,  a  loving  twinkle  about  the  eyelids  of  the  other. 

"Boys,  can't  you  leave  the  litter  here  for  me  to  lie  on 
till  we  start?  Yes?  That's  all  right — there'll  be  work 
enough  for  it  after  I  leave  it.  Now,  Mac,  let  a  couple 
of  our  men  put  in  their  time  rubbing  my  feet  and  ankles 
and  knees.  That's  right.  Chip — you  and  Bob  will  do 
first-rate.  There — hard — oh,  ouch;  no,  don't  stop;  rub 
away  like  fury,  no  matter  if  I  howl  a  little.  Well,  boys, 
Mark  is  getting  on,  all  right.  Wishes  he  were  with 
us.  Oh,  Chip — that's  right — oh  Lordy,  Lordy — but  rub 
away.  Looks  as  if  it  were  going  to  be  a  fine  day.  There, 
there — you  may  skip  the  points  of  my  ankles  till  some 
other  day — after — to-morrow,  week — after — next — oh,  gee- 
whilllkins!  rub  underneath  my  knee  instead  of  on  top." 
And  so  on. 


THE    FORLORN    HOPE.  223 

"Now,  boys,  I'm  going  to  try  my  weight  on  them. 
Here  are  my  sticks  under  me — now  raise  me  and  let  me 
get  them  to  the  ground — there — I  guess  I  can  bear  my 
weight.  So;  now  I'm  all  right."  His  dangling  sword 
wobbled  about  his  legs  and  his  sticks  as  he  hobbled  along 
the  line,  nodding  to  the  men,  whom  he  recognized  partly 
from  their  place  in  the  line  and  partly  from  the  wintry 
gray  that  began  to  lighten  the  eastern  sky. 

"Say,  Cap,  this  is  an  infantry  regiment.  We  ain't 
used  to  marchin'  alongside  of  quadrupeds.  I'm  afraid 
you'll  beat  us  all  on  the  charge  bay-nets." 

"No,  ToUiver.  But  then  I'  11  never  run  away  on  my  four 
legs  when  I  once  get  there."  After  a  few  steps  more  he 
added  :  "Perhaps  I'd  better  start  now,  so  we'll  be  even  by 
and  by."     Which  humorous  suggestion  was  well  received. 

The  gray  grew  lighter  and  the  men  began  to  peer  into 
the  unknown  front,  and,  as  usual,  to  make  remarks. 

"Now  why  in  thunder  don't  the  high  mukkemuks  start 
us  out?  We'd  be  half-way  there  before  the  rebs  could  get 
the  drop  on  us." 

"Oh,  pshaw,  John!  I  wouldn't  care  if  they  didn't  start 
us  for  a  month!" 

Some  of  the  men  talk  thus  lightly  and  bandy  jests;  but 
the  majority  are  pale,  stern,  sad,  and  silent.  They  are 
not  the  ideal  soldiers;  machines,  indifferent  to  death; 
fatalists  with  their  "kismet; "  pious  zealots  mumbling 
prayers  and  glorying  in  any  sacrifice  "for  God  and  Czar. " 
They  are  common-sense,  thrifty  American  citizens; 
fathers,  brothers,  sons,  husbands;  full  of  the  hopes  of 
peace  and  prosperity;  regretfully  though  resolutely  risking 
them  all  at  the  call  of  patriotic  duty,  with  the  inexpli- 
cable self-devotion  of  the  man-at-arms. 

Mac  mounts  the  breast-work,  field-glass  in  hand,  and 
peers  long  and  anxiously  forward. 


224  '^^'^  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Mac,  come  down!" 

"Shortly,  Captain,  shortly." 

"Lieutenant,  I  command  this  company  for  a  while  yet, 
and  I  order  you  to  come  down,  and  I  mean  what  I  say." 

Mac  slowly  obeys,  only  to  walk  to  another  part  of  the 
mound  and  climb  again  on  top  of  it,  again  peering  into 
the  increasing  light,  sweeping  the  field  slowly  from  side 
to  side  with  his  glass. 

Will  gives  it  up. 

"What  do  you  see,  Mac?  If  you  will  stick  yourself 
up  like  a  scarecrow  to  be  shot  at,  you  ought  to  find  out 
something  to  pay  us  for  the  risk." 

"I  can  make  out  the  salient,  and  I  know  the  flag-staff 
is  just  to  the  left — if  the  gum-boots  haven't  shot  it  away. 
There;    now  I've  fixed  it — the  flag  is  flying." 

"What  did  you  expect — that  they'd    hauled  it    down?" 

Mac's  drawl  becomes  more  drawling  than  ever  as  he 
goes  on. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


WHAT    MAC  S   FIELD-GLASS    SHOWED. 


HE  tall  lieutenant  in  his  long  blue  over- 
coat, both  hands  supporting  his  glass  and 
both  elbows  level   with    his    ears,  stands 
perched  on  the  highest  point  of  the  earth- 
work.     His    figure   relieved    against    the 
gray  sky  in  the  dim  light  of  misty  dawn, 
seems  of  gigantic,    supernatural   height; 
but  his  voice  has    the   same    old    strong, 
quiet,    half-serious,     half-playful     drawl 
which  his  friends — his  worshipers — have 
learned  to  associate    with  the    flame  and 
roar  of  battle;    with    trial    and    triumph 
and  wounds  and  death. 
"Well,  Mac,  out  with  it." 
Through     the    dewy     quiet    the    next 
words  pierce  like   separate    pistol-shots: 
"Ye  can't — 'most  always — tell — what — ye  may  least — 
expect — specially  about — uncertain  things — in  this  world 
— of  chance — and  change — the  flag's — flying — audit's — a 
whi-te — fia-ag." 

"SURRENDERED!"  cries  the  captain. 
"SURRENDERED!     SURRENDERED!"  shout    the 
men  who  hear  him. 

The  shout  becomes  a  roar  and  the  roar  a  yell  of   fran- 
tic   joy,    triumph,    relief,     congratulation,   thankfulness. 
/5  225 


"m 


■ilk 


226  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

Strong    men,  nerved    to    die    to-day,  laugh    and  cry   and 
sob  in  each  other's  arms. 

The  roar  spreads  back  toother  commands,  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  stern,  stolid  commander,  to  hospitals 
where  sick  and  wounded  take  new  life  at  the  sound.  It 
flies  on  the  wings  of  the  lightning  over  the  great  awaken- 
ing land — Chicago,  Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
Washington — cities,  towns,  and  villages  by  the  thousand 
take  it  up,  and  with  it  awaken  the  anxious  mother  and 
wife;  the  Wall  street  gold  speculator;  the  money  king; 
the  hopeful,  fearful,  sadly  smiling,  burdened  President. 
Fort  Donelson,  with  all  its  strength  and  all  its  men, 
and  all  its  armament  and  munitions  of  war,  has  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  Union  army! 

Oh,  what  a  Sabbath  day! 

Presently  the  nearest  bands  get  together;  and  then, 
floating  on  the  rays  of  sunrise,  comes  the  grand,  sweet 
air  of  "The  Star  Spangled  Banner." 

"Oh,  say,  can  you  see  by  the  dawn's  early  light — " 

And  yet  another  ineradicable  association  is  engraved 
on  Will's  memory. 

The  national  hymn  is  followed  by 

"Hail  Columbia,  happy  land  !" 

And  that  by  a  rattling  quickstep — 

"Yankee  Doodle  came  to  town." 
The  gun-boats  catch  the  news,  and  over  the  water  from 
each  of  them  comes  the  same  succession  of  well-known 
tunes;  not  very  grand  in  themselves,  but  to  their  hear- 
ers always  nereafter  soul-thrilling  with  the  meaning  they 
express. 


The  troops    who  had    stormed  and    taken  the    outwork 
before  named  had  the  distinguished  honor  of  leading  the 


WHAT   mac's    field-glass    SHOWED.  227 

triumphal  march  out  from  our  lines,  crowned  with  spec- 
tators, past  the  little  village  of  Dover  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluff,  through  the  works  that  seamed  the  hill-side; 
through  the  tall  grim  fort  itself,  and  into  the  enemy's 
camp  beyond.  But  the  Sixth  came  next,  and  excited 
much  remark  in  tlie  long,  crowded  line  of  friendly  spec- 
tators that  blackened  the  Union  earth-works;  not  more 
by  the  proud  hgure  of  Lieut. -Col.  Isaacs  riding  at  its 
head  than  by  a  humble  litter  that  accompanied  its  rear 
company. 

"That  feller  was  going  to  assault  with  his  compan}', 
though  he's  got  the  'flammatary  rheumatism  so  he  can't 
walk!  Captain  of  Company  K  of  the  Sixth  Illinois,  is  he? 
Well,   he'll  do." 

The  vanquished  army  presented  a  curious  spectacle  to 
the  wide-open,  excited  eyes  of  the  victors.  Wcful  dis- 
aster as  its  most  prominent  characteristic.  Even  before 
our  boys  climbed  the  hill  they  passed  houses  which  were 
used  as  hospitals;  and  in  one  court-yard  particularly  they 
could  not  help  seeing  many  unburied  dead,  dragged  out 
and  left  lying,  with  jaws  dropped  and  sightless  eyeballs 
uncovered  to  the  morning  sun,  and  to  swarming  flies 
seeking  vainly  for  atoms  of  moisture  in  the  dried-up 
founts  of  tears. 

Thousands  of  muskets,  a  few  in  orderly  stacks,  but 
more  in  great,  promiscuous,  higgledy-piggledy  heaps, 
"good  enough  for  the  dam'  Yanks.  "  Three  thousand  horses 
and  mules  and  their  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  wagons. 
Forty-eight  pieces  of  field  artillery  and  eighteen  siege- 
guns,  including  those  mounted  in  batteries  close  to  the 
river  bank  whence  their  level  fire  had  been  so  terrible  to 
the  gun-boats, 

"The  saddest  of  all  sights,  next  to  a  defeat,  is  a  vic- 
tory."    The  fearful  evidences  of  loss  by  the  storm  of  shot 


228  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

and  shell  were  far  more  impressive  and  memorable  than 
the  sight  of  the  captured  property,  which  in  its  dirt  and 
disorder  looked  absolutely  worthless.  Many  dead  were 
unburied;  the  stench  was  intolerable;  in  every  hospital 
tired  and  sleepy  surgeons  were  working  over  the  wounded 
in  a  mechanical,  perfunctory  fashion;  while  laid  outside 
— expelled  to  make  room  for  others  who  might  possibly 
be  saved — were  the  usual  pitiful  collections  of  men  past 
hope  or  help;  not  yet  dead,  but  waiting  for  death  as 
their  only  possible  relief  from  suffering.  Some  were 
minus  an  arm  or  leg,  but  most  had  been  abandoned 
without  an  operation.  And  always  the  swarming  flies! 
After  every  battle,  adjoining  each  hospital,  lie  these 
prostrate  living  forms;  mostly  silent,  and  merely  gasping 
for  last  breaths,  but  sometimes  neither  silent  nor  motionless 
— writhing,  moaning,  hiccoughing — the  most  heart  rend- 
ing of  all  the  distressing  spectacles  that  meet  the  sol- 
dier's eyes. 

At  last  the  Sixth  found  a  shelter  (the  first  it  had  had 
since  leaving  Cairo)  in  the  shape  of  a  line  of  old-fashioned 
"Sibleys" — tall,  round  tents  which  taper  in  a  drooping 
curve  from  ground  to  apex.  These  had  once  belonged 
to  the  United  States,  and  had  lately  been  in  the  possession 
of  the  confederacy;  now  they  were  part  of  the  spoils  of 
war  and  were  allotted  to  the  Sixth,  both  as  a  reward  of 
merit  and  a  necessity  of  existence. 

Morphy  soon  started  to  hunt  for  Harry  Planter, 
wounded  and  captured  in  the  affair  on  the  right.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  poor  boy  would  never  be  found;  the 
conviction  that  he  must  have  died  becoming  inevitable. 
Still  Morphy  kept  on.  Face  after  face,  in  scores  and 
hundreds,  did  he  peer  into.  The  Union  men  in  rebel 
hands  Avere  indeed  few;  yet  more  than  once  did  a  feeble 
voice  meet  his  ear: 


I 


WHAT   MAC'S    FIELD-GLASS    SHOWED.  229 

"Hello,  lieutenant!  Is  it  all  true?  Glory!  Glory! 
Will  our  boys  come  and  fetch  me  away  pretty  soon? 
Oh,  thank  God!"  And  grimy  hands  were  raised  to  hide 
the  tears  that  would  spring  forth.  * 

Then  again  the  familiar  uniform  wculd  be  half  recog- 
nized by  eyes  that  would  never  see  flag,  friends,  or  hope 
again.  The  sunlight  of  victory  and  joy  for  us,  the 
blackness  of  night  for  them.  To  die  with  others,  in 
defeat  and  disaster,  is  natural;  to  die  alone  amid  victory 
and  rejoicings  is  hard — hard.  One  young  fellow,  almost 
a  boy,  given  over  as  mortally  hurt,  beckoned  anxiously 
to  Morphy  to  whisper  to  him  : 

"Oh,  Lieutenant — my  folks  are — are  very  fine  people — 
rich  and  all  that — society  and  all  that — they  let  me  come 
though  it  broke  mother's  heart — they  came  down  to 
Cairo  with  me — and  if  they  knew — knew  about— this — 
they  would  all  come  down  and  brin-g  Dr.  Brainard — he 
might  know  how  to — to — to— to — save  me,  not  let  me 
die  7iowr  And  he  sobbed  as  he  gazed  at  Morphy  with 
dry,  pleading  eyes  that  spoke  a  desperate  longing  for  life. 

"Well,  my  lad,  I'm  going  to  fetch  an  ambulance  for  a 
man  belonging  to  my  own  company,  and  I'll  see  that  you 
get  carried  over  at  the  same  time."  So  the  boy's  short 
march  to  the  grave  was  at  least  illumined  with  the  light 
of  hope;  soon  to  be  superseded  by  the  blinding  glare  of 
fever  and  delirium. 

More  faces — faces — faces.  No,  he  doesn't  know  tins 
man,  nor  this,   nor  this,   nor  this — 

"Lieutenant!  Lieutenant  Morph)'!  Thank  God  I  hap- 
pened to  open  my  eyes!  I've  been  waiting  for  some  of 
you  ever  since  sun-up,  when  the  firing  didn't  begin  again 
as  usual — and  they  didn't  bring  us  nothin'  to  eat — and 
the  man  who  brought  round  the  water  said  they'd  sur- 
rendered.    And  after  all  you  was   going    to    go   by   me!" 


230  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

Sobs  and  tears  choked  his  utterance,  and  he  clasped 
Morphy's  hand  as  if  he  was  afraid  to  let  it  go.  The 
lieutenant  had  failed  to  recognize  the  well-known  feat- 
ures for  which  he  was  so  earnestly  seeking;  pinched  as 
they  were  with  pain  and  privation,  and  grimy  with 
dirt  and  powder-smoke. 

Yes;  Planter  was  glad  of  our  success,  but  his  wound 
hadn't  been  touched  yet,  and  was  already  fly-blown.  Ten 
thousand  prisoners  was  a  good  many;  but  how  about  get- 
ting something  to  eat  besides  raw  corn-meal  mush?  He 
didn't  wonder  the  boys  felt  good — now  how  quick  did  the 
lieutenant  s'pose  he    could    be    got  over  into  our  lines? 

Morphy  laid  a  wet  cloth  over  his  wound,  gave  him 
something  from  his  haversack  and  canteen,  and  reassured 
him  as  to  his  future;  and  then  sat  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  cot  for  a  comforting  chat.  Company  news  was  given 
and  relished,  of  course.  Harry  forgot  all  his  suffer- 
ings while  he  learned  of  the  astounding  arrest  of  Will 
and  Mac;  the  brilliant  outcome  of  the  matter;  the  dis- 
comfiture of  Col.  Puller,  and  his  final  resignation  under 
fire.     To  this  last  Harry  could  only  say: 

"  Well,   I  will  be  blowed ! " 


"Mac,"  said  the  captain  after  dress-parade  that  even- 
ing, ''Uncle  Sam  owes  you  a  big  debt.  Suppose  you  had 
kept  3^our  mouth  shut  concerning  our  'flank  in  the  air,' 
what  then?" 

"Oh,  the  rebs  would  have  got  out,  that's  all.  They 
couldn't  have  got  their  trains  out,  and  what's  an  army 
without  a  train?  We  should  have  bagged  them  before 
they  could  reach  any  new  base,  I  guess." 

"An  army  isn't  like  a  cannon-ball,  that  can  roll  around 
where  it  has  a  mind,  is  it?" 


WHAT    mac's    field-glass    SHOWED.  231 

"No,  not  by  a  jug-full — more  like  a  sword  that  you've 
got  to  hold  in  your  hand." 

The  captain  heaved  a  weary  sigh. 

"What  a  job  we've  got  on  hand,  Mac!" 

"Well,  we  don't  have  to  do  it  all  to-night.  Let's  have 
a  pipe." 

"Will  it  make  me  able  to  keep  this  leg  still?"  (He  was 
lying  on  his  cot  with  his  knee  bared.) 

"Does  it  hurt  all  the  time?" 

"No;  but  just  as  soon  as  it  gets  into  a  position  where 
it  doesn't  hurt,  I've  got  to  move  it  so  it  will." 

"I  notice  you  keep  it  going —budge  it  about  six  times 
a  minute,  right  along." 

"I  study  and  try  to  make  out  why  I  can't  let  it  lie 
still;   but  I  can't,  and  I  can't  make  out  why,  either." 

With  his  hands  he  lifted  the  offending  joint  to  an  ob- 
tuse angle.  "There — that's  the  easiest  position;  put 
something  under  it  to  support  it;  that  Army  Regulations 
will  do;  set  it  up  on  edge — so.  Now  just  lay  your  hand 
on  it,  gently.      Oh,  that  feels  good!" 

"It's  burning  hot.  You  wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at  it; 
only  slightly  swelled  and  red.      Does  it  hurt  now?" 

"Not  a  bit.  Now  let's  try  the  pipe.  Thank  you;  that 
tastes  good — pretty  good." 

"Of  course  it  does.  Didn't  you  ever  hear  the  song  of 
the  soldier  to  his  pipe?" 

"Not  that  I  remember.     How  does  it  go?" 

"Hunger  and  thirst.     Hunger  and  thirst. 
Give  me  my  pipe;  let  'em  do  their  worst. 

"Cold  and  wet.  Cold  and  wet. 
Give  me  my  pipe,  I  can  soon  forget. 

"Sickness  and  pain.  Sickness  and  pain. 
Give  me  my  pipe,  and  I  won't  complain. 


232  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

••Powder  and  ball.   Powder  and  ball. 
Give  me  my  pipe,  PU  smoke  till  I  fall. 

•'Battle  and  blocxl.    P>attle  and  blood. 
Give  me  my  pipe,  it'll  still  taste  good. 

"Wounds  and  death.   Wounds  and  death. 
I'll  draw  my  pipe  with  my  dying  breath." 

"First-rate!     Who  made  them?" 

"Oh,  some  damfool  soldier  or  other — on  the  march 
through  the  mud  I  judge  by  the  sound."  As  he  spoke 
he  looked  away,  out  under  the  tent  flap;  and  Fargeon 
always  suspected  that  the  rude  rhymes  had  originated 
with  the  rough  campaigner,  during  some  toilsome  march. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  silent  smoking,  Fargeon  leaned 
over  and  laid  his  pipe  on  the  ground. 

"How's  the  knee?" 

"All  right." 

"Maybe  you  could  get  to  sleep." 

"Maybe." 

Mac  went  out  and  lowered  the  tent  flap,  and  Will 
dropped  asleep.  About  five  minutes  later  Mac  heard  his 
name  called  and  reentered  the  tent. 

"Has  it  started  to  aching  again?" 

"N — o,  but  he's  got  to  come  down." 

"Why  not  let  him  alone  if  he  don't  hurt  you?" 

"Don't  ask  foolish  questions.  Just  put  your  hand 
underneath  and  lift  him  a  little  and  take  out  the  book. 
There — so — now  lower  gently — oh,  Lord!  that  knee-cap 
feels  like  one  great  big  boil!  m-M-M-M-m!"  He  leaned  up 
on  his  elbow  and  glared  at  the  insensate  torment;  threat- 
ened it  with  his  fist  as  if  he  would  like  to  annihilate  it. 

"I  told  you  you'd  better  let  well  enough  alone." 

"Go  along  about  your  business!  Send  me  some  deaf 
and  dumb  man  that  won' t  talk  foolishness!  m-M-M-M-m!" 


WHAT    MAC'S    FIELD-GLASS    SHOWED.  233 

Mac  laughed,  but  did  not  go,  and  as  soon  as  the  acute 
paroxysm  of  pain  had  passed,  Will  apologized  for  his 
impatience. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  Captain!  If  you'd  just  hinted 
you  wanted  me  away  I  should  have  felt  cut  up — but  a 
straight-out  cuss  like  that  don't  hurt  me." 

"Did  I  swear?" 

"Well — substantially.  Now  I'm  going  to  have  a  sur- 
geon here  if  it  takes  every  hair  off  his  head!" 

"Mac,  don't  you  do  it!  I'm  calm  and  serious  now, 
and  I  tell  you  that  I  shall  be  calmly  and  seriously  angry 
if  you  allow  any  doctor  to  come  near  me.  Think  of  it — 
a  surgeon  prescribing  for  my  hot  knee  while  such  men  as 
Harry  Planter  are  w^aiting  for  the  first  dressing  of  their 
wounds!  I  won't  have  it,  and  that  settles  it.  Promise 
to  do  as  I  say." 

Mac  promised,  but  he  managed  to  get  invited  to  dine 
at  the  mess  of  a  surgeon  whom  he  knew;  and  uas  com- 
forted to  know  that  the  inflammatory  kind  of  rheumatism, 
though  the  most  painful,  is  usually  the  least  serious  type 
of  the  complaints  that  go  by  that  name;  that  it  has  a  regu- 
lar number  of  days  to  run  (if  it  receives  no  fresh  aggrava- 
tions by  fresh  exposure),  and  that  in  most  cases  the  chief 
danger  is  that  it  may  run  into  the  chronic  form. 

Next  morning  a  telegram  came  from  Mr.  Penrose,  ask- 
ing how  Will  was  in  health,  and  saying  that  a  relief  expe- 
dition was  fitting  out  to  help  the  hospital  service.  He 
offered  to  accompany  the  expedition,  "bringing  a  member 
of  my  family  along." 

Will  lay  back  with  the  yellow  paper  fluttering  in  his 
hand,  and  tried  to  fancy  his  sweet,  pure,  delicate,  girl- 
ish Sally  sitting  by  his  side.  Then  he  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  at  his  shabby  environments.  The  old  tent 
was  full  of  holes  and  rents^  and  smeared  with  dirt ;  floor- 


234  "^^^  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

less,  almost  seatless,  quite  cheerless.  Soiled  clothes 
here,  crumpled  newspapers  there,  sword  and  belt  yonder, 
lying  on  dirty  boots — worse  than  all,  a  certainty  of  in 
habitants  in  the  old  Sibley  other  than  those  entered  on' 
the  army  lists,  either  Union  or  rebel.  He  himself  un- 
shaven, unshorn,  and  wearing  clothes  that  had  not  been 
even  removed  for  more  than  a  week. 

His  mind  wandered  out  over  the  scene  around.  No 
cleanliness,  no  decency,  no  privacy,  none  of  the  con- 
veniences of  civilized  humanity;  no  purity  to  the  sense  of 
seeing,  of  hearing,  of  smelling,  or  of  tasting.  Dead 
beasts  polluting  not  only  the  land,  but  even  the  water  of 
the  river,  along  Vv^hose  muddy  banks  their  carcasses  lay 
rotting. 

Until  now  he  had  not  at  all  realized  the  squalor  of  the 
place  and  time;  but  now  he  had  to  try  to  reconcile  it 
with  the  state  of  things  suggested  by  the  telegram  he 
held  in  his  hand — with  the  presence  of  Sally  Penrose! 
He  could  not  do  it.  He  wished — oh,  how  he  wished! — 
that  they  would  not  come.  He  tried  to  frame  a  tele- 
gram which  should  not  be  rude  and  yet  should  prevent 
the  visit. 

"Confined  to  tent  with  inflammatory  rheumatism.  Not 
dangerous.  Hardly  fit  to  see  you  here.  When  I  can  I 
will  ask  leave  and  come  as  soon  as  possible." 

Fargeon  wrote  this  very  plainly,  and  the  telegrapher  got 
the  words  all  correctly;  but  by  reason  of  one  slight 
change  in  punctuation,  it  presented  an  entirely  new 
aspect  when  it  reached  the  parsonage. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE    LADY    BURDEN-SHARERS. 

HE  change  in  the  telegram  was  simply 
the  interpolation  of  a  period  after  the 
v/ord  "ask,"  which  made  the  closing 
part  read  thus: 

"Hardly  fit  to  see  you  here.  When 
I  can  I  will  ask.  Leave  and  come  as 
soon  as  possible. " 

This  was  rather  blind  ;  but  the  clos- 
ing sentence  was  unmistakable.  Poor 
English,  but  plain  in  its  meaning.  They  "left"  at  once. 
It  was  not  so  bad  after  all.  The  "relief  expedition" 
was  united  with  a  party  consisting  of  the  governor  of  the 
state  and  other  high  officials,  and  all  were  provided  with 
a  chartered  steamer  (the  Athabasca)  at  Cairo;  so  that 
not  only  was  there  transportation  to  and  from  the  bat- 
tle-ground provided  for,  but  also  their  shelter  and  sup- 
port while  they  staid. 

Sally  and  her  sister  Lydia  were  both  of  the  party,  to- 
gether with  others  of  their  sex  from  Chicago  and  Spring- 
field, where  (as  over  the  entire  North)  people  were  wild 
with  joy  and  eager  with  thanks  to  Grant  and  his  brave 
army,  and  offers  of  relief  and  aid. 

What  belles  the  young  women  found  themselves  to  be 
on  the  Athabasca  and  in  camp!  Sally's  alarm  at  the 
'  Come  as  soon  as  possible"    message  had   been  appeased 

235 


235  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

by  later  advices,  and  she  was  moderately  gay  as  well  as 
conspicuously  handsome.  Solemn  statesmen  and  politi- 
cians called  her  "Lady"  and  talked  gravely  to  her  on  seri- 
ous subjects,  greatly  to  her  delectation  and  eke  to  theirs; 
for  she  listened  much  and  said  little,  gazing  with  great 
eyes  that  seemed  to  drink  in  their  ponderous  words  as 
the  embodiment  of  all  wisdom. 

Lydia,  in  all  the  rosy  dawn  of  womanhood,  took  naive 
delight  in  the  exercise  of  her  newly  acquired  povv^er  over 
that  strange  creature,  man.  She  made  havoc  among  the 
hearts  of  the  younger  travelers^new-made  officers,  mili- 
tary secretaries,  aides-de-camp  and  other  fledglings,  brim- 
ming with  ambition  and  impatience  to  taste  war's  bitter 
cup  that  sparkles  so  alluringly.  They  awaited  their  turns 
to  promenade  the  deck  with  her,  and  applied  all  arts  to 
please  lier — quite  unconscious  that  she  was  privately 
comparing  each  with  McClintock,  so  strong,  grave,  quiet; 
her  ideal  of  heroism. 


"Sally,  are  you  asleep?" 

No  answer  comes,  and  a  pretty  face  peers  down  over 
the  edge  of  the  upper  berth,  at  a  lovely  face  just  visible 
in  the    lower,  by  the  dim    light  of    the  state-room  lamp. 

"Oh,  5'ou  needn't  shut  your  eyes  so  tight!  I  can  see, 
by  your  shutting  them  so  a^vfully  tight,  that  you  are  wide 
awake;  so  I  am  going  to  talk.  Well,  another  man  has 
said,  when  I  told  him  that  I  had  enlisted  as  a  hospital 
nurse,  that  he  was  going  to  try  to  get  wounded  immedi- 
ately, and  then  followed  it  by  saying  that  he  was 
wounded  already  and  shot  through  the  heart,  and  all 
that;  and  when  I  said  that  no  man  that  was  shot 
through  the  heart  could  be  admitted  to  7ny  hospital,  he 
said  they'd    have    to  bury   him,  and  would  I  come  to  his 


THE    LADY    BURDEN-SHARERS.  237 

funeral;  and  I  said  I  would  with  pleasure,  and  fire  a 
salute  over  his  grave;  and  he  asked  what  kind  of  a 
salute,  and  said  if  it  was  the  right  kind  of  a  salute  he 
would  come  to  life  again  just  to  be  there  and  be  struck 
by  it!  Oh,  I  wish  you'd  been  there!  You'd  have  just 
died!" 

"Then  I'm  glad  I  wasn't.      Now  go  to  sleep." 

"Oh,  you  old  poke,  you!  You  think  nobody  can  be 
grown  up  but  yourself.  I  really  believe  they  all  think 
I'm  a  great  deal  older  than  I  am,  and  I  just  hope  you 
won't  go  and  tell  them  I  am  not.      Now,  will  you?" 

"Oh,  no;  I  won't  tell  them  you  are  not  older  than  you 
are.     How  could  you  be?" 

"Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean.  I  think  it's  perfectly 
splendid,  and  I  wish  the  old  Athabasca  could  go  on  for- 
ever and  ever,  and  we  stay  on  board  always,  just  sailing 
up  one  river  and  down  another.      Don't  you?" 

"How  could  the  Athabasca  get  across  after  going  up 
one  river  so  as  to  come  down  another?" 

"Oh,  anyway  she  liked.  And  I  think  the  young  officers 
are  perfectly  splendid;  and  you  go  and  spend  your  time 
with  those  governors  and  things  instead!  Pretending  to 
be  so  awfully  impressed!  1  saw  you  shining  your  big 
eyes  at  that  old  fossil,  Dubois,  and  making  believe  you 
hung  on  every  word  he  uttered  about  Mason  and  Slidell, 
and  all  that!  Talk  about  the  attitude  of  England — I 
wish  you  could  have  seen  your  attitude!  If  you  could 
only  have  stood  where  I  did  and  seen  yourself!  You 
would  have  died  sure  enough." 

"Died  over  again?  I  couldn't  if  I  had  died  before  when 
you  say  you  wish  I  had." 

"S-T-O-U-G-H,  stuff!  You  know  what  I  mean.  And 
all  the  while  you  were  thinking  how  you  could  get  rid 
of  him  and  write  your    letter  to  mother    as  you  ought  to 


238  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

have  been  doing,  and  you  know  it,  Miss  Pretense;  so 
there  now!  But  you're  an  old  dear,  and  I  love  3^ou  of 
course — only  your  name  ought  to  be  Sapphira  instead  of 
Sara.      How  d'ye  do,  Sapphira?" 

"Bunn}'!" 

Instantly  two  pearly  teeth,  visible  till  then,  were  cov- 
ered by  a  firmly  compressed  lip;  and  a  small  steamboat 
pillow  came  plunging  down  into  the  lower  berth. 

"Oh,  how  nice!  I've  been  wanting  another  pillov/. 
Now  if  I  call  you  Bunny  again,  what  will  you  throw 
down?" 

"All  the  bed-clothes — and  I'll  freeze — and  then  you'll 
have  no  little  sister!" 

Silence  reigned  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  a  fair 
white  arm,  half  covered  by  a  loose  sleeve,  thrust  the 
pillow  back  into  the  upper  berth. 

"Sally,  you  are  a  blessing  and  an  angel,  no  matter  if 
you  were  to  call  me  Bunny  ten  thousand  times  in  suc- 
cession; but  I  hope  you  will  take  some  other  time  to  do 
it,  for  it  would  keep  me  awake;  and  now  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  talk  any  more,  because  I  want  to  go  to  sleep. 
'Our  Father  Who  art  in  Heaven — '"  and  she  just  man- 
aged to  get  through  the  Lord's  prayer  by  slighting  the 
last  words  into  "freverneveramen,"  already  nearly  in- 
audible to  her  sister,  and  quite  so  to  herself. 

Next  morning  when  the  fair  sisters  greeted  each  other 
from  berth  to  berth,  Lyd.ia  asked: 

"What  can  be  the  matter?  Why  are  we  so  quiet,  do 
you  suppose?  " 

"I  suppose  that  we  are  at  Donelson." 

"Oh,  I  hope  not!"  And  then  two  slender  arched  pink 
soles,  finished  off  with  shining  pink  heels  and  toes,  issued 
from  the  upper  berth  and  hung  down  from  limbs,  round, 
shapely  and — not  slender. 


THE    LADY    BURDEN-SHARERS.  239 

"Oh,  how  sharp  this  board  is!  I  feel  as  if  I  were  a 
wounded  soldier  being  amputated." 

Down  she  came  to  the  floor  with  a  rustle  and  thump. 
Then  a  bright  face,  adorned  with  frowzy,  curly  hair  and 
two  ravishing  teeth,  peered  out  of  the  little  window. 

"Yes!  We're  here!  I  can  see  a  tall,  ugly,  sloping, 
paved  river-bank,  and  then  a  high,  bare  bluff  with  a  real 
fort  on  top!  And  oh!  such  lots  and  lots  of  steamboats 
lying  with  their  noses  at  the  bank  and  their  heels  kicking 
out  into  the  stream!  And  one  steamboat,  with  sloping, 
black  sides,  is  anchored  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  and 
she  has  a  flag  flying,  and  a  great  big,  «?<;/// /-looking  can- 
non on  the  deck,  and  another  peeping  out  of  a  hole  in 
her  side,  like  a  dog  in   a  kennel. 

"Come,  dear;  dress  yourself,  or  else  climb  back  into 
your  berch  and  let  me  get  up." 

"And  such  crowds  of  men  on  the  river-bank!  And  our 
fine  gentlemen  are  standing  in  a  row  and  are  looking 
ashore — like  your  Sunday-school  class  waiting  for  the 
Christmas  presents  to  be  given  out." 

"Now  will  you  dress?" 

"Yes,  yes;    don't  you  see  I  am  dressing?" 

"No,  I  don't  call  anything  dressing  until  you  come 
away  from  that  window  and  behave  as  a  girl  should  who 
is  old  enough  to  have  admirers.  -t=  *  *  Oh,  yes,  kiss- 
ing and  hugging  are  very  well,  but  how  about  dressing?" 


A  great  deal  of  hot  water  and  soap  had  done  their  best 
for  Will,  and  some  boards  and  a  chair  by  his  bedside 
were  striving  to  ameliorate  the  squalor  of  his  miserable 
old  gray  tent.  Yet,  after  all,  who  was  it  who  greeted 
the  parson  and  his  fair,  fresh  daughters?  It  was  a  gaunt 
and  grizzled  elderly  man,  thin  and  pale  with  illness  and 


240  THE    CAPTAIN    OF   COMPANY    K, 

pain;  his  hair  too  long  uncut  and  his  beard  (which  he 
had  shaved  off  in  Chicago)  at  its  very  worst — the  ten-day 
stage.  No  linen  about  him — nothing  but  dingy,  over- 
night-looking woolens. 

Poor  Sally  struggled  against  the  hateful,  ungrateful,  un- 
patriotic feeling,  but  it  would  intrude;  a  feeling  as  if  she 
could  respect  this  veteran  as  a  heroic  and  honorable 
wreck — but  not  think  of  him  as  a  lover.  She  bent  down 
and  kissed  his  forehead — just  a  duty-kiss,  such  as  slie 
might  bestow  on  a  sick  but  worthy  uncle.  And  she  sat 
by  his  side  and  held  his  feverish  hand  in  hers,  saying 
little,  looking  off  through  the  tent  opening,  and  feeling 
utterly  foreign  to  everything  about  her,  including  Will. 
He  on  his  part  saw  the  incongruity  of  it  all,  and  more 
than  ever  regretted  the  visit. 

Will"  (she  spoke  with  an  effort),  "some  of  the  ladies 
on  the  boat  have  formed  themselves  into  a  nursing  corps 
to  be  known  as  the  Burden-sharers." 

"Oh,  I  hope,  Sally,  you  won't  go  into  any  such  scheme!" 

"Well,  they  have  none  but  married  women."  [She  did 
not  say  that  in  a  burst  of  patriotic  fervor  she  had 
dreamed  of  having  her  father  marry  her  to  him  so  as  to 
fit  her  for  the  "high  and  hol3-  mission."] 

"I'm  glad  of  that,  anyhow." 

"We  all  thought,  you  know — 

"  'There  was  lack  of  woman's  nursing, 
There  was  dearth  of  woman's  tears.'  " 

"Well,  SO  there  is  and  must  be.     It's  part  of  war." 

"We  had  a  beautiful  address  from  a  Boston  lady. 
She  said  it  was  woman's  mission  to  bathe  the  brow  of 
anguish." 

"Well,  but,  my  dear  Sally,  you  know  the  brow  is  only 
a  small  part  of  a  man.      Who  is  going  to  wash  the  rest?" 

Sally  did  not  know. 


THE    LADY   BURDEN-SHARERS.  24I 

"But  couldn't  I  read  aloud  to  them — write  for  them — 
pray  with  them!" 

"Oh,  yes,  in  a  large  northern  hospital  with  separate 
rooms  for  different  classes  of  patients — convalescents, 
and  so  forth.  But  there  is  no  place  in  a  field  hospital 
for  my  pretty,  delicate  Sally." 

"Are  there  absolutely  no  women  in  the  hospitals?" 

"YeS)  they  hire  some  black  women  to  wash,  and  scrub, 
and- -such  things. " 

Mr.  Penrose  and  Lydia  (attended  by  some  of  her  satel- 
lites) were  making  a  tour  of  the  fort  and  a  few  of  the 
nearest  defensive  earth-works,  under  the  guidance  of 
McClintock  and  Morphy.  Lydia  and  Mac  extended 
their  walk  to  the  earth-work  where  the  Sixth  had  stood 
ready  for  the  assault,  on  the  memorable  Sunday  morning, 
and  saw  the  place  where  the  captain's  litter  had  been 
placed — they  even  found  the  footprints  where  Mac  had 
stood  when  he  saw  the  white  flag  through  the  morning  mist. 

"Mr.  McClintock — Lieutenant,  I  suppose  I  ought  to 
say,  only  I  never  can  think  of  it — would  you  mind  setting 
your  feet  in  those  very  places  again?  Now  look  through 
your  glass  at  the  fort  just  as  you  did  that  morning!  Oh, 
that  is  splendid!  Can  you  remember  how  you  felt  and 
what  you  thought?" 

"I  guess  the  first  thought  I  had,  was  that  Captain  Far- 
geon  wouldn't  have  to  hobble  up  the  hill  after  all." 

"What  next?" 

"Oh — how  Colonel  Puller  would  be  wanting  to  kick  him- 
self black  and  blue  in  a  few  minutes." 

"And  then  what?" 

"Why,  then  the  boys  began  shouting   and   yelling   and 
laughing,  so  that  I  couldn't    hear  myself    think — only  to 
be  glad  they  were  all  going  to  stay  alive   awhile  instead 
of  going  dead  that  morning." 
/6 


242  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Now  come  down  and  stand  by  me  and  tell  me  truly 
— cross  your  heart,  as  we  school-girls  used  to  say — didn't 
3'ou  think  of  yourself  at  all? — not  the  least  little  bit?" 

"Well — come  to  think — after  awhile,  when  I  saw  all  the 
boys  shaking  hands,  and  hugging  each  other,  and  sob- 
bing for  joy,  it  did  strike  me  a  little  how  curious  it  was 
that  nobody  on  earth  cared  whether  I  was  alive  or  dead. " 

He  looked  in  her  glowing  face  and  met  her  shining 
eyes  with  a  quiet  smile,  the  look  and  smile  lasting  so  long 
that  she  had  to  turn  away,  with  a  little  laugh  of  embar- 
rassment. 

"Well — Lieutenant,  if  you'll  promise  not  to  laugh  at  me, 
I'll  tell    you  what    I  thought  just    now  as  you  stood  there.  " 

"Do  tell  me.  You  can't  hurt  my  feelings— they're 
callous. " 

"Well,  then — you'll  try  not  to  laugh  at  me,  won't  you? 
Because  you  know  we  ministers'  daughters  naturally  re- 
member our  fathers'  texts." 

"I  won't  laugh.  Was  it  Joshua  tooting  his  horn  before 
the  walls  of  Jericho?" 

"No,  indeed!  That's  horrid  of  you!  It  was  some- 
thing ver)^  complimentary;   and  rather  sentimental." 

"Well,  Miss  Lydia,  if  you  can  stand  it  I  can.  What 
did  you  think?" 

"I  thought — 'How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are 
the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth  good  tidings!'  So  there 
now!" 

Mac  looked  away  a  moment  in  silence,  while  Lydia 
wondered  how  he  would  take  it.  When  he  turned  to  her 
again  his  face  was  flushed  up  to  the  very  temples. 

"That  is  the  prettiest  music  I  ever  heard   in    my  life." 

They  rejoined  the  minister,  and  the  three  walked  up 
the  scarred  slope — a  week  ago  so  deadly,  now  so  dull, 
commonplace,    silent,    and    peaceful.     A   cow   wandered 


THE    LADY    BURDEN-SHARERS.  243 

about  searching  for  spears  of  last  year's  grass.  Birds 
were  actively  discussing  the  great  nest  question.  Negro 
children  were  picking  up  fragments  of  shells,  which  they 
offered  for  sale,  calling  them  (with  unconscious  accuracy) 
"Moment'ums. "  They  bought  some  of  these,  and  culled 
some  other  reminders  of  the  place,  moss  and  ferns,  some 
dandelions,  and  even  a  few — very  few — violets,  until 
Lydia's  hands  and  handkerchief  were  quite  loaded. 

"Mr. I  mean  Lieutenant — is  this  long  mound  of  fresh 

soil  another  earth-work?" 

Mac  hesitated,  then  stammered:    "Yes — yes,  miss." 

"Union,  or  rebel?" 

"Well— a  little  of  both." 

"Nonsense!  How  could  there  be  a  joint  earth-work? 
The  men  on  each  side  would  kill  all  the  men  on  the 
other  side!  Then  it  would  have  nothing  but  dead  corpses 
to  protect." 

Mac  laughed.  "Well,  Miss  Penrose,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  that's  all  it  ever  did  protect.     It's  only  a  grave." 

"Oh!"  She  shuddered  and  clung  to  his  arm.  Then, 
overcoming  her  repugnance,  she  went  to  the  unsightly 
heap  (Mac  carefully  guiding  her  to  the  windward  side) 
and  dropped  the  leaves  and  flowers  here  and  there  along 
its  slope. 

"How  pitifully  few  they  look!" 

"Yes.  Just  about  a  leaf  apiece  for  the  boys  lying  be- 
low, piled  side  by  side  and  over  each  other  as  close  as 
they  can  be  packed  in." 

They  all  returned  to  Fargeon's  tent  and  prepared  for 
a  visit  to  the  hospitals.  Will  insisted  that  Sally  should 
accompany  them;  to  which  she  readily  assented — not 
that  she  would  confess  to  being  tired  of  that  dreary  old 
tent  and  Will's  hot  hand  and  irrepressible  restlessness; 
but  that  she  must  make  at  least  one  effort  to  carry  out  some 


244  "^"^  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

of  the  romantic  resolutions  she  had  fixed  in  her  mind  so 
firmly  before  coming  from  home,  and  during  the  jour- 
ney; when  she  was  thinking  constantly  of  Florence 
Nightingale,  and  wondering  if  any  dying  soldier  would 
ever  kiss  her  shadow  as  she  passed. 

A  memorable  pilgrimage,  that  through  the  main  hos- 
pitals, an  experience  that  none  of  the  civilians  ever  for- 
got. Here  the  bandaged  stump  of  a  lost  arm,  laid  out 
on  the  blanket,  or  on  a  rude  box  beside  the  cot.  There  a 
leg,  sorely  injured,  and  yet  to  be  saved  if  possible,  sup- 
ported by  a  cord  let  down  from  above.  Again,  a  sufferer 
being  nourished  through  a  tube  because  his  jaw  was  shot 
away.  Worst  of  all,  perhaps,  the  cases  where  only  the 
pale,  pinched  face  and  fading  eyes  indicated  that  that 
bullet  had  found  its  way  to  some  vital  organ,  and  was 
necessarily  a  peremptory  summons  to  'leave  the  warm 
precincts  of  the  cheerful  day." 

One  fine  fellow,  older  than  the  average,  specially 
attracted  Mr.  Penrose's  attention.  He  seemed  to  be 
looking  at  the  world  with  a  kindly,  hopeful,  amused 
patience;  as  if  he  could  contemplate  life  as  a  whole  and 
easily  put  up  with  a  simple  episode  like  a  sojourn  in  a 
field  hospital  with  a  wound  received  in  the  very  first 
hour  of  his  very  first  battle  After  a  few  words  which 
elicited  this  fact,  the  visitor  said  to  the  patient: 

"My  dear  friend,  I  am  a  clergyman.  Is  there  anything 
I  can  do  to  minister  to  your  deepest  needs?" 

"Well — if  you  could  give  me  a  pipe  and  some  tobacco, 
and  permission  to  smoke  here — " 

This  was  not  exactly  what  the  good  man  had  in  view, 
but  nevertheless  he  sought  the  attendant  in  charge  to 
prefer  the  humble  request.  Being  referred  to  the  sur- 
geon, the  latter  said: 

"What — number  thirty-eight?     Oh,  yes;  let  him  have 


THE    LADY    BURDEN-SHARERS.  245 

whatever  he  craves.     It  won't  make  any  difference.    He 
can't  possibly  live." 

And  when  he  returned — pale,  breathless,  and  sorely  dis- 
turbed— the  quiet  man  said: 

"I  see  the  doctor  has  told  you  it  won't  make  any  dif- 
ference what  /  do." 

After  he  recovered  from  the  severe  shock  all  this  gave 
him,  Mr.  Penrose  managed  to  secure  the  coveted  solace; 
and  at  once  he  had  his  hands  full  of  business,  so  many 
applied  to  him  to  do  the  same  for  them.  He  soon  ex- 
hausted the  spare  supply  of  his  own  friends;  then  what 
there  was  to  be  found  on  the  steamboat,  and  finally  he 
was  forced  to  spend  in  the  sutlers'  shops  every  cent  he 
had  with  him.     He  wrote  home  to  his  wife  that  night: 

"You  would  have  been  edified,  my  dear,  could  you  have 
seen  your  reverend  spouse  spending  a  good  part  of  the 
holy  Sabbath  flying  about,  purchasing  very  cheap  tobacco 
at  very  dear  rates  from  everj'body  who  would  sell  it  to 
him.  I  have  always  tried  to  be  a  humble  servant  of  my 
Master.  He  said  the  Sabbath  was  made  for  man;  and  I 
must  say,  dear,  that  the  looks  some  of  these  men  gave 
me  (though  they  said  but  little)  seemed  like  those  the 
painters  depict  on  the  face  of  the  sick  whom  He  healed. 

"The  'Burden-sharers' — God  bless  their  dear,  kind 
hearts — set  bravely  to  work  in  their  mission.  They  vis- 
ited all  the  hospitals,  without  exception,  and  repeated 
over  and  over  again  the  offer  to  bathe  the  sufferers' 
brows,  and  the  assurance  that  they  would  gladly  have 
brought  a  bouquet  to  each  patient  if  they  had  onl}'  had 
the  needful  flowers. 

"They  worked  all  the  morning  and  up  to  dinner-time; 
some  of  them  were  even  late  for  the  one-o'clock  dinner  on 
board  the  boat!  After  dinner,  being  quite  tired  out,  they 
thought  best  to  husband  their  strength  for  the  work,  and 


246  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

not  to  climb  up  the  hill  again  for  the  short  time  they 
would  be  able  to  serve  before  supper;  so  they  decided  to 
rest  through  the  afternoon  in  order  to  be  fresh  for  the 
labors  of  to-morrow. 

"But  between  ourselves,  my  love,  I  begin  to  doubt  the 
perfect  success  of  the  Burden-sharers'  movement.  Mrs. 
Simpler — Mother  Simpler  she  is  called  in  charity  circles 
— seems  more  adapted  to  the  kind  of  work  needed, 
although  the  ladies,  in  forming  the  society,  scarcely 
recognized  her  as  one  of  them. 

"Mother  Simpler  did  not  arrive  in  time  for  dinner,  nor 
even  for  supper,  I  believe;  for  it  was  hours  afterward- 
after  dark  in  fact — I  saw  the  steward  setting  a  meal  for 
her  at  one  end  of  the  long  table,  away  down  the  cabin 
under  the  farthest  lamp.  I  told  her  of  the  ladies'  plans 
and  asked  for  her  report.  I  think  I  will  set  it  down  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  her  own  good-natured  phrases,  and 
her  rude,  untutored  language: 

"'Why,  Lord  bless  ye,  I  haven't  got  nothing  to  report. 
I  jest  sot  down  between  the  first  two  beds  I  come  to 
and  'tended  to  the  boys  as  well  as  I  could.  I  hustled 
'round  and  got  'em  some  warm  water  an'  soap  an'  a 
towel,  an'  they  washed  themselves  good.  Then  a  feller 
that  had  lost  his  arm  asked  me  to  help  him  out,  an'  of 
course  I  did,  an'  I  washed  his  feet  for  him,  an'  I  tell  you 
they  needed  it  bad.  Then  I  asRed  the  hospital  steward 
if  they  didn't  provide  no  fine-tooth  combs;  an',  if  j'ou'U 
believe  me,  there  wasn't  such  a  thing  to  be  had!  The 
idy  of  a  hospital  without  a  fine-tooth  comb!  Well,  I 
wasn't  goin'  to  give  it  up  so;  an'  I  jest  made  'em  fix  up 
a  bottle  of  decoction  of  cocculus  indicus  and  I  spread  it 
round  good!  tell  ye!  An'  I'm  a-goin'  to  stick  to  it,  too. 
You  may  tell  the  folks  up  in  Chicago  that  you  left  me 
down  here  fightin'varmin,  an' they  may  call  me  old  Mother 


THE    LADY    BURDEN-SHARERS. 


247 


Cocculus  Indicus  if  they' ve  a  mind  to,  but  I  ain't  a-goin' 
to  give  up  the  fight  till  they're  driven  out  of  every  hospital 
here — yes,  an'  out  of  every  camp,  too,  that  I'^can  get 
at.' 

"Dear  old  Martha!  Before  her  I  feel  my  littleness. 
The  Lord  will  remember  her  in  the  last  day  of  her  much 
serving.     *        *     *   " 


The  next  dawn  heralded  a  brighter  day    for  the  young 
lovers.     But  that  must  wait  for  a  new  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


HARD   LINES   IN   PLEASANT  PLACES. 

SAY,  Mac,  I  can't  stand  this." 

"Worse  this  morning,  Captain  Far- 
geon?" 

"No;     I'm     better.       It's     left     my 

knees;    though  my  ankles  are  catching 

it.      It  seems  to    be  going  off   in  that 

I     direction,    and    you    see  it's  only    got 

[■■  i  y^     two  feet  further  to  go  before  I  lose  it 

I'fM^    altogether. " 

"Two    feet?     Oh,    I    see;    that's    a 

joke.     Well,   I    guess    you're    getting 

better  sure  enough.     What  was  it  you 

couldn't  stand?" 

"Why,  looking   so   like    Time    in    the   primer!     Don't 

you  suppose  you  can  lassoo  a  barber  off  one  of  the  boats 

to  come  up    and    shave    me,  and   some  one    to  brush  my 

boots  and  clothes?" 

"Better?  I  believe  you!  You  are  going  to  be  our  old 
elegant  Cap  Fargeon  again.  Hurrah  for  everything! 
The  boys  will  just  get  up  on  their  hind  legs  and  whoo*p 
when  I  tell  'em  you're  all  right  once  more!" 

The  day  was  bright  and  warm;  the  snow  was  gone  and 
the  ground  almost  dry. 

"I  suppose  there  are  no  boards  to  be  had,  Mac?" 
"Not    one,  for    love    or  money,"   said    Mac,   laughing. 
Then  he  whistled,  and  Chipstone  appeared. 

348 


HARD  LINES  IN  PLEASANT  PLACES.  249 

"Chip,  the  captain  wants  some  floor-boards,  and  I  tell 
him  there  are  none  to  be  had  for  love  or  money."  He 
winked  at  the  sergeant  (just  promoted),  and  Chip 
answered  gravely: 

"Not  one, Lieutenant,  for  love  or  money!" 

Then  he  disappeared,  and  within  an  incredibly  short  time 
a  little  group  of  K  men  appeared  with  enough  boards 
for  a  good  tent  floor  and  an  outside  platform  besides. 

"I  thought  you  said  they  couldn't  be  had  for  love  or 
money." 

"They  can't.  Captain;  but  we  know  of  other  ways  of 
getting  wha.t  you  want — and  we  got  'em." 

Will  felt  a  little  doubtful  about  the  strict  morality  of 
this  summary  proceeding,  but  (not  being  so  squeamish 
as  of  old)  he  did  not  inquire  into  it  more  particularl}'. 
The  floor  was  laid;  a  "fly"  of  canvas  was  stretched  over- 
head in  front  of  the  tent,  a  long  chair  was  borrowed  from 
the  nearest  hospital.  Will,  with  some  help,  donned  his 
cleanly  brushed  clothes,  got  his  face  shaved,  and — looked 
like  a  new  man.  He  could  not  quite  stand  it  to  put  the 
boots  on  yet;  but  in  their  now  resplendent  appearance 
they  were  ranged  in  plain  sight  and  really  looked  quite 
decorative — though  the  word  is  a  later  adaptation. 

On  the  boat,  Sally  Penrose  had  had  a  rather  bad 
night.  S/ie,  a  patriot  and  a  Christian,  a  thoughtful,  self- 
respectful  woman,  to  find  her  foolish  fancy  shocked  into 
repulsion  by  the  personal  appearance  of  her  plighted 
spouse!  His  privations  and  sufferings — voluntary  and 
heroic — which  ought  to  add  to  her  love,  acting  as  an 
extinguisher  to  it! 

Perhaps  if  all  had  been  different — if  Captain  Fargeon 
had  been  wounded  ever  so  dreadfulh^  and  she  had  found 
him  all  gory,  among  the  dead  and   dying,  she   would  not 


250  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

have  failed  so  utterly  at  the  time  of  trial;  but  in  his  ill- 
smelling  tent  on  that  muddy  hill,  with  his  rheumatism — 

In  the  morning  she  made  a  point  of  looking  her  best, 
and  being  ready  for  breakfast  among  the  very  first,  and 
of  getting  herself,  her  father  and  her  sister  started  up 
the  long,  hard  climb  at  the  very  earliest  possible  moment. 
Firmness!  No  hanging  back  from  the  dreadful,  horrid 
tent!  And  she  tvould  smile.  She  would  laugh,  and  make 
dear  Will  laugh,  with  an  account  of  the  Burden-sharers' 
brow-bathings,  done  in  her  very  most  brilliant  style!  She 
would  be  a  real  "streak  of  sunshine"  (as  dear  Will  had 
often  called  her  in  happier  days  when  she  wasn't  engaged 
to  him)  and  not  a  cloud  of  gloom,  as  she  felt  she  had 
been  j^esterday. 

The  effort,  mental  and  bodily,  made  her  feel  better, 
and  she  arrived,  flushed  and  panting,  at  the  camp  level. 
It  scarcely  took  any  force  to  institute  the  pre-determined 
smile  as  she  tripped  along,  quite  outstripping  the  rest. 

What  is  this?  An  elegant  awning-covered  platform,  in 
front  of  a  floored  tent;  glittering  sword  and  flame-red 
sash  decorously  hung  up  over  a  row  of  glistening  black 
boots  decoratively  arranged  below!  And — her  own  lover 
sitting  in  soldierly  state  in  the  midst!  his  clean-shaven 
face  thinned  and  paled  by  suffering,  but  handsomer  than 
of  old,  because  graver,  and  strengthened  by  the  memory 
of  battle  and  the  late  calm  contemplation  of  impending 
death.  Yesterday  was  all  a  horrid  dream — it  was  some 
other  woman  who  had  shrunk  from  some  other  man. 

She  dared  not  kiss  him  in  all  that  publicity;  but  when 
he  clasped  her  hand  she  furtively  pressed  it  to  her  lips 
and  met  his  admirmg  gaze  with  a  look  of  unmistakable 
reciprocity. 

"You  are  a  vision  of  beauty  this  morning,"  whispered  he. 

"You  are  my  handsome  hero  and  my  love  forever." 


HARD    LINES    IN    PLEASANT    PLACES.  25I 

The  boys  of  Company  K  cast  many  curious  yet  re- 
spectful glances  at  the  fair  sisters,  and  smiled  sympathet- 
ically when  sounds  of  hearty  laughter  (Fargeon's  voice 
being  audible  among  the  rest)  came  from  the  group  as  it 
listened  to  Sally's  story  of  the  doings  of  the  ladies  in  the 
hospitals,  as  reported  by  themselves.  Word  was  passed 
down  the  line  of  tents  that  the  visitors  were  coming 
down  to  see  the  men  at  home;  whereupon  they  proceed- 
ed to  make  themselves  decent.  Those  who  were  mend- 
ing garments  necessary  for  propriety  hastened  to  put 
them  on.  Those  who  were  washing  their  hairy  chests 
and  muscular  shoulders,  still  black  and  blue  from  the 
recoil  of  the  musket,  got  themselves  into  presentable 
shape  as  soon  as  possible. 

When  it  came  to  the  point  Sally  declared  herself 
"tired,"  at  the  same  time  giving  Will  a  hand-squeeze 
that  translated  her  "tired"  feeling  into  a  reluctance  to 
leave  him.  So  the  others  set  off  without  her.  But 
almost  the  first  group  they  stopped  to  talk  with  (much  as 
they  admired  the  budding  beauty  of   Lydia)  asked  Mac: 

"Ain't  Cap  Fargeon's  young  woman  goin'  to  honor  us 
with  a  call?"  This  was  said  in  a  tone  of  assumed  indif- 
ference; but  the  lieutenant's  quick  ear  detected  an  under- 
tone of  disappointment  that  made  him  interrupt  Lydia 
and  say: 

"Oh,  yes — she's  coming  of  course.  I'll  go  back  and 
see  what  keeps  her. " 

He  went  up  and  whispered  a  few  words  to  Fargeon. 

"Sally,"  said  the  captain,  with  gratified  pride,  "the 
lieutenant  says  the  men  will  be  hurt  if  you  don't  go  and 
see  them." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  she  cried,  dimpling,  blushing,  and  bri- 
dling.     "I  am  awfully  flattered,  and  I'll  go  at  once." 

"I  don't  wonder  they  love  to  look  at  you — you  beauty!" 


252  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

he  murmured.  "And  give  them  your  brightest,  sweetest 
smile;  for  I  love  them  like  brothers." 

"All  right!  I'll  look  at  each  one  as  if  I  were  already 
his  sister-in-law!" 

Sally  shook  hands  with  them  all  (they  were  only  about 
sixty  now)  and  said  a  word  to  such  as  she  had  heard  of 
personally.      Happy  they! 

"Sarg'ntChipstone,  I  heard  of  you  after  the  corn-field 
battle."  "Mr.  Town,  you're  the  one  who  got  the  first 
sight  of  the  rebels  over  the  corn-field."  "Mr.  Thrush,  I've 
been  waiting  to  see  you  to  tell  you  that  I  went  with 
Capt'n  Fargeon  to  visit  your  mother,  and  am  going  again 
when  I  get  back,  so  )'0U  must  tell  me  what  to  say  to  her 
for  you."  "Mr.  Sylvester,  I  remember  you  too,  at  Cairo. 
I'm  sorry  not  to  hear  you  singing  as  you  used  to.  We 
all  cried  when  we  heard  about  Clinton  Thrush.  It 
almost  makes  me  cry  now  to  think  of  it."  And  so  on,  at 
tent  after  tent. 

"Mr.  McClintock  has  told  me  of  your  losing  your 
blankets  by  no  fault  of  your  own,  and  about  your  being 
expected  to  pay  for  others.  I  think  it  is  the  most  disgrace- 
ful, burning  shame  I  ever  heard  of  in  my  life!  Gov.  Yates 
is  on  the  boat  I  am  going  back  on,  and  I  shall  tell  him 
the  whole  story." 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Penrose.  It  does  seem  a  little 
rough  to  fine  Company  K  a  hundred  dollars  and  more 
for  going  out  and  being  shot  from  both  front  and  rear." 

"It  shall  not  be  so  if  I  can  help  it."* 


♦  The  men  had  to  have  blankets  at  once,  so  Fargeon  (against  Mac's  advice)  re- 
ceipted for  them  to  the  quartermaster,  at  the  same  time  furnishing  the  proper  affida- 
vits to  show  how  the  men  had  lost  them,  and  asking  for  a  free  issue.  Col.  Puller 
sent  up  the  papers  "disapproved."  When  the  paymaster  next  visited  the  regiment 
each  man  found,  in  the  appropriate  column  of  the  pay-roll,  an  extra  blanket  charged 
him  and  deducted  from  his  pay.  The  captain  made  all  these  deductions  good  to  the 
men,  using  up  his  entire  monthly  stipend  and  a  little  more.  Then,  by  help  of  Lieut. - 
Col.  Isaacs,  he  set  the  whole  matter  clearly  before  the  War  Department,  only  to 
learn  (after  a  year's  delay)  that  nothing  short  of  a  special  act  of  Congress  would 
afford  him  relief. 


253 


254  '^^^   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

After  she  had  passed  on  one  of  the  country  boys 
(George  Friend)  was  heard  to  say: 

"My!  ain't  she  peaches?  I'll  bet  ye  s/ie  kin  play  the 
pie-anner  with  her  hands  crossed  an'  her  eyes  shut  /I'^^/iL' 
Yes,   sir-ee!" 

Mac's  attentions  were  seemingly  monopolized  by 
Sally,  but  a  close  observer  might  perceive  that  his  eyes 
followed  Lydia  wherever  she  went  under  Morphy's  de- 
voted escort.  The  gay  party  called  at  regimental  head- 
quarters and  were  flatteringly  received  by  "field  and 
staff."  Dr.  Ward  pretended  to  be  very  much  annoyed 
and  hurt,  both  personally  and  professionally,  that  Captain 
Fargeon  should  presume  to  be  getting  well  without  his 
aid  or  sanction. 

"However,  Miss  Penrose,  I'll  forgive  him  on  one  condi- 
tion, and  that  is  that  he  will  let  me  prescribe  for  him 
just  once  and  will  take    the  prescription — as  he  will." 

"Dear  me.  Doctor,  under  the  circumstances,  and  con- 
sidering your  state  of  mind,  I  should  be  afraid  your  pre- 
scription would  be  fatal." 

"I  think  it  might.  I  don't  think  he  will  get  over  the 
remedy  half  so  soon  as  he  will  over  the  disease." 

"Then  I  shall  object  to  his  trying  it." 

"I  don't  believe  you  will;  and  I  believe  he  will  follow 
my  directions  to  the  letter." 

"Well,  what  is  the  prescription?" 

The  doctor  took  out  a  prescription  paper  and  wrote: 

"Rx.  Athabasca.   Quant,  suf.    Quotidie.   Ad  infinitum." 

Captain  Fargeon  "took  his  prescription  like  a  little 
man,"  hired  an  intelligent  black  fellow  to  wait  on  him, 
and  had  himself  transferred  to  the  Athabasca,  looking 
forward  to  a  quiet,  restful,  luxurious  time  of  perfect 
privacy  and  sweet  enjoyment  of  the  society  of  his  lady- 
love.    But  things  did  not   turn  out   exactly  so.     On   the 


HARD  LINES  IN  PLEASANT  PLACES.  255 

contrary,  he  found  himself  once  more  in  danger  of  being 
spoiled  by  hero-worship.  The  Burden-sharers  would 
have  liked  to  stand  in  line,  awaiting  their  turn  to  bathe 
his  brow.  He  was  publicly  pointed  at  as  the  man  who 
had  prepared  to  follow  the  assault  on  a  litter  rather 
than  be  left  behind.  Governor  Yates  himself  was  flatter- 
ingly attentive,  and  talked  with  him  with  all  the  art  and 
charm  which  nature  had  so  bountifully  bestowed  on  our 
grand,  unfortunate  War-Governor,  and  which  lingers  in 
the  memory  of  thousands  of  lllinoisans  to  this  day. 

"Captain  Fargeon,  your  State  and  nation  honor  such 
acts  as  that  of  yours,  unimportant  though  you  seem  to 
think  it.  You  are  on  this  boat  as  the  guest  of  Illinois. 
My  only  regret  is  that  you  did  not  come  on  board  at  once 
upon  our  arrival,  instead  of  now,  on  the  eve  of  our 
departure." 

"What?"  cried  poor  Sally,  struggling  against  a  return 
of  her  old  foolish  faintness.  "I  thought — we  all  thought — " 
Here  tears  came  to  her  relief  and  she  welcomed  them  as 
evidence  that  she  should  not  faint. 

"Do  not  distress  yourself,  dear  lady.  I  am  unexpect- 
edly and  unwillingly  called  back  to  Springfield;  but  why 
should  not  Captain  Fargeon  accompany  us,  at  least  as 
far  as  Cairo?" 

"I  have  no  leave  of  absence,  Governor." 

"I  think  I  can  arrange  that  for  you,  Captain,"  answered 
the  Governor,  and  added,  with  one  of  his  charming 
bows,  "and  in  the  service  of  beauty  in  distress"  (a  wave 
of  the  hand  toward  the  still  tearful  Sally),  "no  effort  of 
mine  shall  be  spared  to  make  your  trip  agreeable  to  all 
concerned. " 

The  Athabasca  started  at  midnight  (convoyed  by  a  gun- 
boat), and  Will  was  carried  off  a  willing  prisoner.  After 
reaching  Cairo  no  one  remained  on  the  boat  except  the 


256 


THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 


Penroses  and  their  patient  and  Mrs.  Simpler,  who  waited 
impatiently  for  the  boat's  return  to  Donelson,  where  she 
might  continue  her  work — now  armed  with  an  official 
document  that  was  to  strengthen  her  hands  and  make 
her  the  savior  of  life  to  many  men. 

For  some  days  the  party  on  the  Athabasca  enjoyed  a 
heavenly  quiet;  Lydia  alone  being  at  all  cast  down  by 
the  change.  Then  the  boat  prepared  for  a  return  trip 
and  the  lovers  were  parted  ;  but  it  was  not  such  anguish 
as  before.  Parting  and  meeting  had  now  grown  to  seem 
more  like  natural  and  persistent  occurrences,  each  follow- 
ing in  orderly  sequence. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

FORWARD   TO   SHILOH. 

''  /\  LL  things  come  for  him  who  can  wait 
(only  they  often  miss  him,  and  inure  to 
the  benefit  of  some  other  fellow). 
This  is  true  whether  the  waiting  be 
voluntary  or  compulsory.  The  Sixth 
had  to  wait  for  its  own  camp  and  camp 
equipage;  and  they  came.  Also  all 
things  go  from  him  who  can  wait — in- 
flammatory rheumatism  among  the  rest;  so  Fargeon 
got  on  his  feet  again,  scarcely  the  worse  for  his  afflic- 
tion, which  had  been  short  and  slight,  and  more  than- 
compensated  by    the  visit   from  and    with  his  friends. 


"Tolly,  show  us  yer  card  trick,"  said  Chipstone,  one 
day.  "Ye  'llaow  ye  can  tell  the  card  a  man  picks  out; 
naow  we'd  like  t'  see  ye  dew  it.      Put  up  or  shut  up." 

"Well,  boys,  that's  what.  You're  to  shuffle  the  cards, 
I  cut  'em  and  hold  'em  backs  up;  four  of  ye  draw  cards, 
look  at 'em  and  put  'em  back,  I  don't  look  at  'em,  shuffle 
again,  and  then,  blindfold,  show  every  man  the  identical 
card  he  picked   out." 

"Go  ahead — talk's  cheap;  it  takes  stones  to  bring 
down  persimmons." 

"VVa-al — I  don't  see  no  money  up,  so  fur." 

"Pll  bet  a  dollar,  even,  agin  ye,  if  ye' re  playin'  it 
square. " 

J7  257 


258  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Good  enough,  Chip.     Who  next?" 

"Count  me  in,"  sung  out  several  voices. 

"Hold  on — four's  enough.  I  can't  afford  to  lose  more'n 
four  dollars.  Chip,  'n'  Cy,  'n'  Aleck,  'n'  Ben— that'll  do. 
Naow  you  shuffle — naow  I  cut,  see?  Naow^  draw — thar, 
one  at  a  time — so."  (Each  draws,  glances  furtively  at 
his  card  and  replaces  it  quickly  and  warily.  )  "Thar  naow, 
shuffle  agin — see?  Are  ye  satisfied?  Any  man  that 
wants  to  can  back  out  yet." 

"Oh,  go  ahead !     Ye  want  to  back  aout  yerself ,  I  guess. " 

"Back  aout?  Not  by  a  jug-full!  But  seein'  I've  got 
the  dead  wood  on  ye,  I  let  ye  know  that  the  bet's  off. 
I  don't  want  yer  money;  thirteen  dollars  a  month  is 
millions  fer  me.  Naow  blindfold  me — so.  Don't  draw 
the  handkerchief  too  awful  tight!  Quit  yer  foolin'!  I 
said  blindfold,  not  blind!  Naow  stand  back  while  I  jist 
lay  out  the  cards  in  four  rows,  thirteen  cards  in  a  row — 
see?     Thar!     Naow,  Chip,  do  ye  see  yer  card?" 

"Yes,  she's  thar." 

"Cy,  how  about  yours?" 

"She's  O  K." 

"So's  mine,"  cried  Aleck  and  Ben  together. 

"All  right  then,"  cried  ToUiver,  pulling  off  his  blind- 
fold. "Then  I've  showed  each  of  ye  the  card  he  picked 
out.      "I've  kept  my  promise.      How  about  the  bets?" 

Of  course  the  delighted  spectators  took  pleasure  in  de- 
ciding that  Tolly,  their  unfailing  entertainer,  had  fairly 
won  the  money;  but  he,  as  "straight"  as  he  was  gay, 
stood  by  his  refusal  and  merely  advised  the  boys  to  look 
out  sharper  next  time  who  they  bet  with.  "Take  the 
infant-class  in  a  Sunday-school,  my  sonnies.  Ye  might 
win  suthin'   from  them — if  5^6  have  luck." 


"Well,  boys,  we  move  to-morrow." 


FORWARD    TO    SHILOH.  259 

"Where  to?" 

"Oh,   somewhere' s  down  in  Dixie,  I  s'pose." 

"Go  it,  5^6  cripples!" 

"No  rest  for  the  wicked." 

"What's  the  matter  with  lettin'  somebody  else  do  some 
of  the  marchin'  and  fightin'  ?" 

"Ya-as;  that's  so,  friend  Rice!  Marched  t'  death,  an' 
froze  t'  death,  an'  starved  t'  death,  an'  fought  t'  death, 
an'  scairt  t'  death;  an'  now  started  out  again  jest  as 
soon  as  we  begin  to  git  half-wa}^  comfortable!" 

"You  shut  up!      Where  are  we  goin'  to  this  time?" 

"Oh,  steamboatin'  somewhere;  I  don't  know  where. 
Nobody  knows." 

"A  free  ride!  Excursion  tickets  don't  cost  us  a  cent! 
Ain't  we  pampered  autocrats?    Reg'lar  high  mukkemuks!" 

"Well,  I  didn'  t  hear  anything  about  any  return  tickets. " 

"Ah,  yah!     I'll  bet  ye!     Lots  of  us    won't  need  any." 

Good-bye,  Donelson.  Good-bye,  all  the  earth-works,  the 
fields  fought  over,  and  the  woods  fought  under;  the  hor- 
rible hospitals  and  the  great  graves;  the  scenes  of  ago- 
nizing effort,  of  devoted  courage,  of  bright  victory  and 
black  defeat.  Even  a  small,  second-rate  struggle,  such 
as  this  was  (although  with  great  results),  included  many, 
many  acts  of  heroism  which  were  unheralded  and  are 
forgotten;  some  because  of  the  insignificant  standing  of 
the  actor;  some  because  of  his  dying  in  the  doing  of 
them — the  torch  of  glory  quenched  with  the  blood  of  the 
hero;  like  poor  IMark's  matches  in  the  fence-corner. 
[In  any  European  army  the  victory  would  have  been 
followed  by  the  distribution  of  a  thousand  "orders"  and 
"decorations. "] 

Bright,  clever  Sally  Penrose  took  care  that  one  little 
bit  of  compensation  should  fall  where  it  was  deserved. 
She  secretly  learned  the  mystery  of  brevets,  and  actually 


26o  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

drew  an  application  for  one  for  Will  Fargeon!  She 
caused  her  father  to  sign  it;  then  sent  it  to  Governor 
Yates  with  a  letter  of  her  own;  received  it  back  with 
the  governor's  hearty  indorsement,  and  sent  it  to  General 
Grant,  who  at  once  approved  it  and  forwarded  it  to  the 
proper  authorities.  Not  a  word  of  all  this  reached  the 
beneficiary,  however,  till  long  after  the  time  we  are  now 
describing. 

Once  more  we  break  camp.  Once  more  the  impro- 
vised seats,  tables,  chimneys,  floors,  couches,  comfortable 
devices  innumerable — -"pulpits  and  piano-fortes" — are 
abandoned.  The  boys  grumble,  more  for  fun  than  any- 
thing else;  for  each  and  all  were  pleased  and  more  than 
pleased  with  anything  that  looked  like  progress.  "As 
though  we  were  going  to  get  to  work  and  get  through 
before  judgment-day." 

We  steam  away  northwesterly,  down  the  Cumberland 
to  where  it  empties  into  the  Tennessee;  then  turning 
southerly,  ■we  steam  up  the  Tennessee  past  captured 
Fort  Henry,  with  its  gun-boats  and  military  post,  to  the 
furthest  point  the  Union  army  has  yet  penetrated.  We 
are  at  Pittsburg  Landing,  where  the  Union  lines  include 
Shiloh  Church,  only  a  few  miles  from  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  "Gulf  States." 

It  is  getting  toward  the  beginning  of  April,  and  to 
northern  senses  the  winds  feel  as  warm  and  the  woods 
look  as  green  as  they  should  at  the  end  of  May.  There 
is  something  more  repellant  in  untimely  warmth  than 
in  untimely  cold,  and  our  boys  are  made  languid  and 
depressed  by  the  unfamiliar,  "unseasonable"  mildness. 

Our  first  permanent  camp-ground  is  in  pleasant  woods 
within  an  hour's  easy  march  of  the  landing-place,  where 
we  instantly  begin  once  more  the  institution  of  "pulpits 
and  piano-fortes."      Brigade  after  brigade  passes  out  and 


FORWARD    TO    SHILOH.  26l 

takes  position;  the  various  bodies  occupying  every  good 
camping-ground  that  can  be  found,  until  there  are  more 
than  one  hundred  regiments  of  infantr}^  on  the  ground, 
besides  artillery  and  cavalr}'. 

"Well  Mac,  how  do  you  like  it?" 

"What?" — removing  his  pipe — "tobacco?  I  like  it 
very  much." 

"No;    our  place  and  our  surroundings." 

"Oh — food,  forage  and  fuel  plenty;  water  fairly  good; 
paymaster  comes  regularly;  and  I'm  not  dead  yet.  Those 
are  all  the  elements  of  happiness  a  soldier  has  any  right 
to  expect — a  good  deal  more  than  all    he  gets,  usually." 

"Come  now,  Mac,  you  know  what  I  mean.  In  a  cam- 
paigning point  of  view,  what  do  you  think  of  our  pros- 
pects?" 

"Well,  you  might  as  well  ask  a  number  two  mackerel 
in  the  Pacific  Ocean  to.  show  you  the  road  to  Norwich." 

"Oh,  you  can  give  some  kind  of  a  guess;  what  does  it 
look  like— attack  or  defense?" 

"Certainly  not  defense.  You  see  how  we're  placed; 
every  regiment  on  its  own  front  and  nobody's  else — just 
where  it  is  handy  to  a  road  and  to  water.  Where  could 
we  fire,  this  minute,  without  hitting  our  friends?" 

"That  means  that  we  expect  to  march  out  and  attack 
Corinth  as  soon  as  Buel  joins  us." 

"Surely,  if  the  rebels  allow  it." 

"How  can  they  hinder  it?" 

"Jump  on  us  before  Buel  gets  here." 

"Ah!  Now,  Mac,  that  reminds  me  that  I  learned  to-day 
that  Beauregard  had  sent  in  a  flag  of  truce,  saying  that 
if  we  did  not  evacuate  the  place  in  ten  days  he  will 
attack  it." 

"What?" 

"Just  that.     What  does  that  mean?" 


262 


THE  CAPTAIN   OF   COiMPANY    K. 


Mac  laid  down  his  pipe  and  began  to  check  off  his  views 
on  his  fingers,  a  familiar  indication  of  just  the  frame  of 
mind  to  which  Fargeon  had  been  trj'ing  to  lure  him. 

"It  means  either"  (thumb)  "that  Bory  wanted  the  flag- 
bearer  to  snoop  some  information,  or"  (forefinger)  "that 
he  thinks  he  can  fool  us  into  waiting  here  for  an  attack 
that'll  never  come;  or"  (middle  finger)  "that  he  z>  going 
to  attack,  and  thinks  that  we'll  think  he  isn't  just 
because  he  says  he  is;  or"  (third  finger)  "that  he  doesn't 
know  whether  he's  a-foot  or  a-horse-back. " 

"Well,  that's  four. 
Now  take  thum b — 
snooping  information. " 


"I  guess  begets  lots  \r"''' 
of  information  better 
than  any  flag-bearer 
could  fetch  him;  all 
these  angry  Southern- 
ers coming  in  com- 
plaining of  depreda- 
tions on  their  planta- 
tions !  They  either 
come  a-purpose  to 
learn,  or  they  go  back 
mighty  ready  to  tell  all  they  know.  And  you'll  notice 
that  they  keep  their  eyes  tight  open,  and  alwa3^s  Avant  to 
be  taken  right  to  the   'head  general.'" 

"Looks  likely.      Noav  how  about  forefinger?" 
"Trying  to  fool  us  to  gain  time?     V/ell,   it  lies  between 
that  and    the    next — trying    to    be    taken  by    contraries. 
Albert  Sidney  Johnson  is  no  fool,  whatever    Bory  is." 
"Looks  more  like  the  attack  tlien — doesn't  it?" 
"It  does  squint  that  wa}'.      One  thing  is  certain,  if  they 


FORWARD   TO    SHILOH.  263 

daren  t  venture  to  attack  us  before  Buel  joins,  they  can't 

either  attack  or  defend  after  he  joins." 

"Humph!    Now  look  here,  Mac;  you  start  by  saying  we 

are  in  no  shape   to   stand   an  attack,  and  you   end  up  by 

saying  we're  going  to  be  attacked." 

'What  of  that?     Such  things  have  happened." 
"Well  tlien,  one  of    two    things  will    come    to    pass:" 

(Will  held  up    his  hands  and  pulled   back   his  thumb  in 

mimicry  of  Mac)  "either  you're  mistaken,  or"  (forefinger) 

"we'll  get  licked. " 

Mac  never  even  noticed  that  he  was  being  caricatured. 

He  returned   his   pipe,  and   said  between   his   teeth   and 

between  whiffs : 

"Oh,  I  s'pose  Grant  knows  what  he's  about." 
"Perhaps  so,  perhaps  not.     What  will  become  o.  us  if 

he  doesn'  t?" 

"We'll  go  dead,  that's  all." 

"You  know  him.      Go  and  tell  him  what  you  think." 

"You  ^/^;/'^'know  him,  or  that  wouldn't  ever  even  come 

into  your  head.     Any  general  who  would  stand  that  from 

a  line  officer  wouldn't  be  worth  powder  to  blow  him  up." 
After  a  time  of  silent  puffing  Mac  went  on: 
"All  I  don't  like    about  it  is  this:     Smith   is    sick  and 

Grant  isnothere;   he's  sixteen  miles  away  down  the  river 

at  Savannah,  on  the  east   bank,  organizing   the  new   ar- 
rivals." 

"He's  go.  his  mind  set  on  attacking  Corinth." 
"That's  what's  the  matter."  [Puff,  puff,  puff.] 
"Now,  Mac,  suppose  you  were  Albert  Sidney  Johnson 

and  P.  G.  T.  Beauregard,  and  knew  as  much  as  you  know 

now,  what  would  you  do?" 

"Depends,  Captain,  on  what  else  I  knew,  wliich  I  don't 

know  now — the  condition  of  my  own  forces.      But  if — if, 

I  say — I  had  anything  like  a  good  fighting  army — " 


264  THE   CAPTAIN   OF   COMPANY    K. 

"Well,  what  then?" 

"I'd  attack  this  town-meeting-camp-meeting-country- 
fair  so  quick  it  would  make  your  head  swim." 

"But  suppose  you  were  U.  S.  Grant,  and  knew  we 
were  going  to  be  attacked — what  would  you  do?" 

"Oh,  I'd  fix  on  a  line  somewhere  and  throw  up  some 
little  breast-works,  and  a  few  redoubts  pierced  for  field- 
pieces  here  and  there,  so  that  the  boys  would  at  least 
know  where  they  are  expected  to  fight;  whether  they  really 
do  fight  or  half-fight  there  or  not." 

Will  picked  up  his  well-worn  "Army  Regulations"  and 
read  aloud: 

"'Section  643.  Unless  the  army  be  acting  on  the  de- 
fensive, no  post  should  be  intrenched.'  " 

"Ya-as,  I  know  old  Section  643  by  heart,  and  I'd  make 
a  special  intrenchment  expressly  to  bury  Section  643  in." 

"What  do  you  suppose  was  the  object  of  643?" 

"Oh,  the  cuss  sitting  in  his  office  writing  that  thought 
we  fellers  out  in  the  open  would  get  fat  and  lazy  if  we 
weren't  kept  always  on  the  anxious  scat.  He  never 
served  in  the  line,  I'll  bet  a  hat.  Many's  the  fight  he 
never  fought  in,  and  none  at  all  that  he  did." 

"No  danger  of  the  front  line  men  getting  pursy  and 
plethoric  to  any  great  extent." 

"Naw!  Takes  a  bureau-officer  for  that.  Fact  is,  ever- 
lasting watchfulness  gets  to  mean  no  watchfulness  at  all; 
it's  calling  'Wolf,  wolf!'  where  there  isn't  any  wolf. 
Sleep  when  you  can,  /  say,  so  as  to  be  able  to  keep  awake 
when  you  must.  If  you  want  to  be  up  bright  and  early 
in  the  morning  you  don't  want  to  be  called  the  night  be- 
fore." 

"I  suppose  the  book-writer  thought  the  men  would 
complain  of  the  pick-and-shovel  work." 

"Ah,  yah!    Ask  'em!     I'm  not    particularly  timid,  nor 


FORWARD    TO    SHILOH.  265 

do  I  love  hard  work  overmuch;  but  I  never  worked  so 
hard  or  so  fast  or  so  willing  as  I  have  when  I  was  piling 
up  a  little  dirt  to  stand  behind  when  the  enemy  was  in 
front.  And  it's  so  with  every  living  man  I  ever  set  eyes 
on!  Why,  men  will  stand  twice  as  long  and  twice  as 
steady  behind  a  lath  fence  that  wouldn't  stop  a  snow-ball, 
as  they  will  in  the  open." 

"I've  heard  our  men  laugh  at  McClellan  for  'a  dirt- 
shoveler,'  as  the  newspapers  called  him." 

"Capt'n  Fargeon,  that  was  before  our  men  ever  smelt 
powder,  I  guess.  You  mark  a  line  on  the  ground  and 
say,  'Boys,  you'll  fight  there;  now  do  as  you've  a  mind 
to  about  building  breast-works,'  and  what  do  you  think 
will  happen?" 

Will  laughed.  "I  think  /  should  begin  hunting  picks 
and  shovels  myself;  so  I  suppose  others  would  too." 

"Yes,  sir!  Or  bayonets,  musket-butts,  rails,  branches, 
tin-cups,  dinner-plates,  caps,  shoes,  feet,  fists,  fingers 
and  finger-nails,  if  they  couldn't  find  picks  and  shovels!" 

"The  breast-work  would  suit  everybody  but  the  enemy, 
I  should  think." 

"If  I  were  little  Mac,  I'd  glory  in  the  name  of  the 
dirt-shoveler.  The  newspaper  fighters — back  in  their  solid 
brick  walls — may  laugh  and  jeer,  but  you  watch  and  see 
what  the  rank  and  file  of  the  army  in  the  field  thinks  of 
McClellan." 

"I'd  rather  make  a  very  big  pile  of  dirt  than  a  very 
little  puddle  of  blood."  [A  long,  smoky  pause.]  "But, 
Mac,  what  makes  us  talk  and  feel  as  if  there  were  death 
in  the  air?  " 

"I  don't  know.  Captain." 

"Don't  you  suppose  the  outside  service  is  being  suffi- 
ciently attended  to?" 

"It  never  is  that." 


255  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Why  not?" 

"Oh,  it's  such  hard  work.  You  get  out  your  regiment 
and  march  five  or  ten  miles  along  a  blind  road— see  noth- 
ing, hear  nothing,  learn  nothing — and  get  back  tired  out, 
cussing  the  fool's  errand,  as  it  seems  to  have  been." 

"Yet  it's  just  what  you  vi^anted  to  know — that  there  is 
nobody  there." 

"Yes,  of  course.  Then  another  time,  perhaps,  you 
come  to  a  clump  of  trees;  bang,  bang-bang-bang — bang;  a 
man  killed  and  two  wounded.  You  deploy  and  push 
ahead,  and  never  see  or  hear  of  another  reb  all  day." 

"Why  not  deploy  first?" 

"You  can't  make  even  five  miles  out  and  back  in  a  day 
deployed.      It's  work  that  ought  to  he  done  by  cavalry." 

"Well,   why  isn't  it?" 

"Oh — you  know  our  cavalry.^'  (The  sneering  tone  of 
the  last  word  bespoke  at  once  the  veteran  and  the  foot- 
soldier.)  "I  saw  a  regiment  come  in  last  night — mud 
hardly  up  to  the  horses'  bellies,  even  with  the  roads  as 
they  are — and  they  swore  they'd  been  out  ten  miles  on 
the  Corinth  road  and  not  seen  a  reb!  Why,  if  they'd 
been  oMi  five  miles  you  couldn't  have  told  'em  from  a 
herd  of  elephants  for  the  mud  they'd  have  picked  up. 
Now  s'pose  they  sent  Grant  the  same  story,  whether  true 
or  not,  and  he  believed  them,  that  confirmed  him  in  his 
idea  that  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  get  ready  to  march 
on  Corinth  when  Buel  joins," 

"Maybe  that's  the  fact." 

"Ya-as.  Maybe.  But  I  wish  Grant  were  here.  Hang 
the  cavalry!  One  infantry  regiment  is  worth  'em  all. 
And  one  regiment  in  every  ten  of  us  ought  to  be  out 
reconnoitering  every  day.  Then  in  ten  days  we  should 
all  have  been  out,   and  the  first  ones  would  be    ready  to 


FORWARD    TO    SHILOH. 


267 


go  out  again.  But  I  haven't  heard  of  an3'body  in  our 
division  going  out." 

"I  heard  Sherman  started  up  some  rebs  and  had  a 
lively  time." 

"Yes?  Well,  Sherman  is  a  good  officer.  I'm  glad 
somebody  is  looking  out  for  things." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    SIXTH    AT    THE    BATTLE    OF    SHILOH. 


\_SCENE. — A  group  of  me?i  in  K^  s  coinpany 
street,  gathered  about  a  smaller  group  seated 
on  the  groimd,  playing  cards  on  a  blanket 
spread  over  their  knees.  Many  are  munching 
the  last  of  their  breakfast  as  they  stand.'\ 

Tolliver  (aside  to  Chipstone  and  Cobb 
on  his  right) — "Now's  our  chance." 
(Aloud) — "Say,  fellers,  I'm  tired  of  eu- 
chre. Tell  ye  what,  I'll  teach  ye  a  new 
game.  We  call  it  'Hog'  where  I  come 
from.  Who  wants  to  learn  hog?" 
^//_"We  all  do." 

Tolliver — "Well,  I  deal  the  cards  round  (does  so),  and 
then  each  man  passes  one  card  to  his  left-hand  neighbor. 
Each  man  picks  out  his  suit,  and  when  we've  gone 
seven  times  round  we  show  down  and  see  who's 
got  the  best  hand  in  any  suit."  [Passes  a  card  to  Cale 
Dugong  on  his  left,  and  the  game  proceeds.] 

Dugong  (much  excited) — "Golly,  that  runs  good!  Bet 
ye  I'll  lay  over  the  crowd." 

Tolliver  (after  a  few  moments)  — "Thar,  boys;  that's 
seven.     Now  show  down." 

Dugong— "Y{:\\     What'd  I  tell  ye?     Ace,  king,  jack,  an' 
ten  o'  di'm'ns  and  four  little  ones!     Who  kin  beat  that?" 
Tolliver— "T\vz.\:  s    so,     Caleb.      (Rising.)      Boys,     that 
settles  it— Dugong  is  the  biggest  hog  in  Company  K." 

26S 


THE    SIXTH    AT    THE    BATTLE    OF    SHILOH.  269 

The  loud  chorus  of  guffaws  at  Dugong's  expense  is 
mingled  with  the  distant  sound  of  scattered  shots.  The 
captain  and  lieutenants  have  just  finished  their  break- 
fast and  are  enjoying  the  usual  peaceful  smoke — at  least 
they  are  all  smoking,  and  two  of  them  are    enjoying    it. 

"Hello,  Mac!  What's  all  this?  Somebody  else  is  re- 
connoitering  I  guess."  For  the  sharp,  untimely  musketry 
persists  in  making  itself  heard  from  the  outposts.  Mac 
looks  glum  and  anxious.  He  hurries  up  all  the  morning 
operations  with  asperity  and  profanity  not  usual  with 
him. 

"Eat  what  you  can,  boys;  dammit,  eat  a  bite  and  shove 
the  rest  into  your  haversacks.  One  man  from  every  tent 
run  and  loosen  the  tent-pegs.  Get  your  blankets  rolled  up 
quicker' n  chain-lightning;  do  you  hear  me?  Captain,  don't 
you  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  step  up  to  regi- 
mental headquarters  and  get  our  orders?  I'll  have  your 
orderly  stow  your  things  ready  for  breaking  camp.  I 
suppose  we  shall  get  everything  into  the  wagons  in  short 
order — we  ought  to!  Musketry  as  near  as  that,  and  we 
caught  with  our  breeches  down!" 

Will,  taking  some  food  in  one  hand  and  a  mug  of  cof- 
fee in  the  other,  walks  rapidly  toward  the  colonel's  tent. 

"Only  an  affair  of  the  outposts,  Captain  Fargeon,"  calls 
Colonel  Isaacs  as  soon  as  he  comes  within  hearing. 

"Well,  Colonel,  if  you'll  allow  me  to  say  so,  there  are 
two  whole  brigades  between  us  and  that  firing,  so  the 
enemy  must  be  at  close  quarters  already.  My  men  are 
packing  up,  expecting  the  wagons.  Lieutenant  McClin- 
tock  feels  very  uneasy." 

"Mac  thinks  it  serious,  does  he?  Well,  we'll  be  on 
the  safe  side".  Then  he  orders  the  regimental  quarter- 
master (much  against  his  will)  to  have  the  wagons  pre- 
pared for  instant  use;    and  sends  his  staff   to   each   com- 


270  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

pany  street  to  hasten  the  preparations  for  a  move.  No 
orders  have  come  from  brigade  headquarters,  so  he  hesi- 
tates absolutely  to  strike  the  tents;  short  of  that  every- 
thing is  put  in  complete  readiness. 

The  rattle  of  musketry  becomes  more  and  more  steady 
and  continuous.  Scattered  men  without  muskets  begin 
straggling  down  the  road  toward  the  rear. 

"We  belong  to  the — th.  The  rebs  got  onto  us  while 
we  was  eating.  Our  muskets  was  all  stacked  on  the 
color  line,  and  we  didn't  even  git  to  the  stacks  at  all — 
the  Johnnies  got  thar  fust.  We  just  had  to  scoot. 
That's  the  second  brigade  that's  doin'  the  firin'.  We 
didn't  git  to  fire  a  shot." 

Even  while  the  man  talked  the  road  is  growing  fuller 
and  fuller  of  fugitives;  here  and  there  a  wagon  or  am- 
bulance, but  chiefly  infantr3'-men  walking  or  running  to- 
ward the  river. 

"Strike  tents!"  shouts  Colonel  Isaacs;  and  inlittlemore 
time  than  it  takes  to  pen  these  lines  Company  K's  street 
ceases  to  be  a  street;  it  is  nothing  but  a  flood  of  v/rink- 
ling  canvas  and  flying  tent-poles;  while  in  the  uncovered 
homes  may  be  descried  pitiful  remains  of  all  the  usual 
little  devices  for  comfort  and  amusement — leafy  beds, 
seats,  checker-boards,  extempore  tables,  and  so  forth. 
K's  wagon  is  loaded  almost  as  soon  as  the  other  streets 
have  fairly  fallen  to  the  ground. 

A  few  moments  later  an  aide  appears  from  brigade 
headquarters  and  in  a  consequential  tone  reports: 

"General  Blank's  compliments,  and  would  thank  Colo- 
nel Isaacs  to  say  by  whose  orders  he  has  struck  his 
tents." 

"Be  kind  enough  to  say  to  General  Blank,"  replied  the 
quick-witted  colonel,  "that  I  am  drilling  my  men  in  the 
rapid  striking  of  camp  and  loading  of  wagons." 


THE    SIXTH    AT    THE    BATTLE    OF    SHILOH.  27I 

"Very  well,  sir!"  rejoins  the  pompous  aide,  and  he 
disappears,  seemingly  unconscious  of  the  half-smothered 
laugh  that  follows  him. 

Many  hundreds  of  unarmed  men  have  now  drifted  past 
the  Sixth,  all  telling  the  same  story.  Their  officers  are 
with  them,  but  do  not  try  to  halt  them,  unarmed  as  they 
are.  Now  begins  to  come  a  different  class:  men  carry- 
ing muskets,  men  who  have  done  some  fighting  before 
they  gave  way;  wounded  men  in  ambulances  and  on  foot, 
and  unhurt  men  helping  back  the  wounded — or,  as  Mac 
explains  it,  wounded  men  helping  back  the  unhurt,  by 
giving  them  an  excuse  (a  bad  one)  for  running  away. 

Still  that  rising  and  approaching  rattle  of  musketry; 
still  the  utter  absence  of  any  orders  from  general  head- 
quarters. The  distant  sound  of  cannon  has  been  heard 
some  time;  now  comes  the  welcome  thunder  of  a  battery 
which  has  opened  fire  from  our  own  side,  and  a  loud 
"Heigh!"  runs  along  the  brigade  front. 

The  next  new,  noticeable  feature  is  the  appearance  of 
stragglers  direct  from  the  firing  line;  not  walking  on  the 
road,  but  straggling  back  through  woods,  fields,  camps — 
anywhere  where  panic  and  cowardice  can  find  a  loop-hole 
of  escape.  The  first  one  who  comes  within  reach  of 
Company  K  is  seized  and  hauled  away  to  the  regimental 
guard-house,  with  the  cheerful  assurance  from  Mac  that 
he  shall  be  shot  at  sunset.  But  a  threat  to  him  does  not 
deter  others,   and  they  begin  to  come  back  in  droves. 

"Sound  the  long  roll!"  calls  Isaacs  quietly.  "Captain 
Fargeon,  deploy  your  company  as  skirmishers  a  hundred 
paces  to  the  front  and  halt  all  unwounded  men;  make 
them  fall  into  your  skirmish  line,  and  let  your  reserve 
shoot  down  any  man  who  refuses  to  stay  and  fight." 

As  the  men  gather  on  the  color  line  in  response  to  the 
long  roll,  they  see  the  other  regiments  in  the  brigade  bur- 


272  THE    CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

riedly  striking  tents  and  scrambling  them  into  wagons  as 
best  they  can. 

Company  K  "takes  intervals  on  its  left  file,"  and 
spreading  along  before  the  face  of  the  rest  of  the  regi- 
ment, begins  its  advance.  At  every  step  some  wounded 
man  is  allowed  to  pass,  and  some  unwounded  man  is 
forced  to  stop  and  join  the  advance.  As  a  general  rule 
they  make  no  objection,  and  the  skirmish  line  soon  be- 
comes almost  a  solid  rank. 

One  man  refuses  to  obey  Mac's  order,  saying: 

"Git  out  of  the  way!      You    ain't  no    officer  of    mine!" 

Mac  whips  out  his  sword.  The  mutineer  lowers  his 
musket  (bayonet  fixed)  and  cocks  it.  Why  does  Mac 
hesitate  to  rush  in  and  kick  the  piece  aside?  It  isn't 
like  him!  The  reason  is  soon  evident;  he  sees  Chipstone 
approaching  from  behind.  Chip  clubs  his  musket  and 
brings  down  the  stock  with  a  crash  on  the  wretch's  head 
and  he  goes  down  like  a  log.  Mac  calls  to  Morphy  (com- 
manding the  reserve)  to  strap  the  fellow  up  to  a  tree,  fac- 
ing the  front,  and  in  that  horrible  position  he  recovers  his 
senses;  his  curses,  prayers,  and  groans  fill  the  air  and 
make  the  management  of  other  fugitives  an  easy  matter. 
They  all  take  the  hint  and  join  the  ranks  of  the  fighters. 

But  what  is  the  halting  of  a  few  score  among  the  vast 
mass  of  retreating  men  who  now  fill  the  space?  They  pass 
in  swarms  to  right  and  left  of  the  steady  rank  of  the 
skirmishers,  in  a  seemingly  endless  and  limitless  throng. 
They  all  tell  the  same  story. 

"The  hull  rebel  army  came  down  on  us.  We  was 
flanked  both  sides;  an'  we  fit  until  they  begun  to  fire 
onto  us  from  right  an'  left  an'  behind." 

By  this  time  the  road  has  become  a  pandemonium  of 
flying  forces.  Wagons  go  galloping  in  the  rear  in  a  nearly 
continuous    stream,  while    twice  there  comes  a  yet  more 


THE    SIXTH    AT   THE    BATTLE    OF    SHILOH.  273 

harrowing  sight — the  flight  of  caissons,  forge  and  battery 
wagon ;  but  no  limbers  and  no  cafuion!  The  guns  are  lost 
— they  may  be  turned  on  us  already,  and  be  swelling  that 
advancing  roar;  be  sending  the  very  shells  which  we  see 
bursting  in  the  sky,  making  tiny  white  cloudlets  that 
spring  into  sight,  so  beautiful  and  so  appalling! 

K  soon  finds  itself  supported  on  right  and  left  by  skir- 
mish lines  from  the  brother  regiments  of  its  brigade — an 
inexpressible  comfort,  especially  as  the  fugitives  now 
are  fewer;  they  are  coming  on  the  run,  and  not  after  the 
manner  of  skulkers  who  have  fled  with  scarcely  an  effort, 
all  of  which  indicates  that  the  next  people  they  may  expect 
will  be  the  enemy.  Already  bullets  have  made  themselves 
heard  and  even  felt,  for  one  of  the  fellows  who  had  fallen 
back,  ttius  far  without  a  scratch,  now  has  a  serious 
wound  to  justify  his  going  the  rest  of  the  way. 

"Why,  Mark,  where' s  your  sling?" 

-"In  me  focket,  Caftain.  I  can  hould  me  fiece  fretty 
fair,  ye  see,  on  me  elbow." 

"Oh,  well,  my  boy — you  needn't  have  come  out  to-day." 

**!  didn't  intind  to,  Caftain,  but  when  1  sor  ye  start — " 
A  nod,  silent  but  expressive,  fills  out  the  speech  with  a 
thrilling  eloquence. 

The  last  Union  men  are  coming  in  now,  chiefly  helping 
badly  wounded  officers  and  soldiers  whom  they  have  not 
the  heart  to  leave  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  foe. 

Fargeon  has  the  right  flank,  Mac  the  left,  and  Morphy 
the  reserve. 

"Mac!"  calls  Will,  "you'll  feel  'em  first.  What  will 
you  do,  and  what  do  you  want  us  to  do?  Give  your  or- 
ders— have 'em  passed  along,  and  we'll  fall  in  with 'em." 

"All  right.  Captain    Fargeon,"   comes    back   in    Mac's 
cheerful,  sonorous,  reassuring  drawl.     "We  could  take  care 
of  a  whole  regiment  with  this  line  of  men,  but  we'll  just 
i8 


274  "^^^  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

fire  one  volley  and  then  give  the  rest  of  the  army  a 
chance.     We  don't  want  to  be  hoggish!" 

A  laughing  "Heigh!"  greets  this  quip,  and  Mac  goes  on: 

"Now,  men,  when  you  see  'em  coming,  fire  one  shot 
apiece,  then  run  back.  Don't  stop  again;  get  back  to 
your  place  in  our  own  line  as  fast  as  Goddlemity'li  let 
ye.  Recollect,  the  regiment  can't  fire  till  you  get  out 
of  the  way." 

Suddenly  firing  begins  in  the  Union  line  far  to  the  left 
of  K's  position,  and  rapidly  extends  in  its  direction. 
Mac's  place  is  the  most  ticklish;  and  high  above  the  din 
can  be  heard  that  well-known  drawl: 

"Let  the  Forty-fifth  boys  shoot  at  nothing  all  they've 
a  mind  to!  We'll  show  'em  that  Company  K  can  hold 
its  water!  No  man  fire  till  I  give  the  word.  You  hear 
me?" 

So  the  firing  from  our  side  extends  up  to  where  Mac 
stands  and  there  stops  for  a  considerable  time,  while 
dead  silence  reigns  all  along  the  front  of  Company  K  and  its 
forced  allies.  Fargeon  stands  in  miserable  suspense  wait- 
ing for  a  word  from  Mac,  and  peering  into  the  impene- 
trable leafage  before  him.  Ha!  What  is  that?  A  sway- 
ing of  the  bushes?  Why  doesn't  Mac  open  fire?  Shall 
he  do  it  without  waiting?  Where  zV  Mac,  anyway?  Why, 
that  is  Mac  out  in  front!  He  has  been  reconnoitering, 
and  now  is  backing  slowly  and  softly  toward  the  kneel- 
ing line,  which  parts  to  let  him  through,  and  he  resumes 
his  place  on  the  left. 

"Hang  you,  Mac!     We  might  have  shot  you  to  pieces!" 

"Oh,  the  boys  knew  I  was  there.  I  went  out  on  pur- 
pose to  hold  them  steady." 

Now  the  wild  yell  of  the  enemy  is  audible,  beginning 
far  away  on  the  left  and  spreading  toward  them.  Now 
it  is  directly  in  front,  and  Mac  speaks — drawls  out: 


::v^-'t 


i^^ 


275 


276  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"When  I  give  the  word,  fire  low — fire  at  their  knees — 
you  hear  me?"      (All  he    says  is  passed    along  the  line.) 

The  yell  becomes  nearer  and  more  plain;  but  the  enemy 
is  saving  his  powder.  A  movement  in  the  underbrush 
is  perceptible,  a  glimpse  of  butternut  shows  here  and 
there,  three  or  four  scattering  shots  are  heard,  and  the 
bullets  go  whizzing  by. 

"FIRE!" 

More  than  a  hundred  muskets  ring  out  their  death-deal- 
ing cry  (fully  half  of  them  being  in  the  hands  of  the 
forced  "recruits"),  and  the  yell  in  their  immediate  front 
suddenly  stops.  The  enemy  has  something  else  to 
think  of,  and  probably  imagines  that  this  level,  deliberate, 
destructive  volley  comes  from  a  line  of  battle,  not  from 
a  mere  skirmish-line. 

'Back,  boys!"  (No  drawl  now.)  "Stoop  down  and 
run  for  your  lives!  But  don't  leave  any  wounded!  Pick 
up  every  man  that  gets  hit;   you  hear  me?" 

An  irregular  volley  comes  in  response  to  theirs,  mostly 
passing  over  their  heads.  One  man  (a  stranger)  goes 
down,  but  he  is  killed,  and  they  leave  him.  The.  strapped- 
up  mutineer  falls  to  begging  again  for  his  life. 

'Oh,  Lieutenant — for  God's  sweet  sake  don't  leave  me 
here!  I  didn't  mean  nothing.  My  gun  wasn't  loaded — 
there  it  lays — you  can  see  for  yourself?" 

"vVill  you  behave  yourself!" 

"I'll  fight  for  you  as  long  as  there's  breath  left  in  my 
body  if  you'll  only  take  me  along." 

Mac,  after  glancing  at  the  musket  and  seeing  that  it 
was  not  capped,  loosens  the  belt  that  held  the  fellow 
and  tells  him  to  pick  up  his  cap  and  gun  and  fall  in  with 
the  rest.  As  soon  as  his  hand  is  free  he  begins  to  rub 
the  lump  on  his  head — tries  to  put  on  his  cap — gives 
it  up  and  puts  it  in  his  haversack  instead. 


THE    SIXTH    AT    THE    BATTLE    OF    SHILOH.  277 

Bullets  have  been  dropping  among  Morphy's  men,  and 
two  have  to  be  helped  back.  Soon  all  are  in  their  places 
on  the  color  line,  Company  K  taking  more  room  than  it 
had  ever  filled  before  since  it  came  out.  Isaacs  comes 
down  the  line  and  congratulates  Will  and  the  rest,  and 
gleans  what  news  they  have  to  give.  When  tliey  ask 
him  about  things  in  the  rear,  he  only  answers  by  an 
expressive  shake  of  the  head.  Then  they  are  once  more 
alone. 

One  of  the  strangers  leaves  the  line  and  runs  toward 
the  road.  Mac  draws  his  pistol  and  fires  a  snap  shot 
after  him — the  fellow  gives  a  yell  of  either  pain  or  tri- 
umph, and  runs  faster  than  ever. 

"I'll  drop  the  next  one!"  said  Mac,  audibly  but  quietly; 
and  no  next  one  tried  the  experiment. 

The  interval  of  quiet  is  so  long  that  the  captain  and 
first  lieutenant,  passing  along  the  rear  of  their  line,  stop 
a  moment  together. 

"Captain,  what  would  you  think  of  a  little  breast-work 
along  about  now?" 

"Well,  Mac,  I  was  once  worth  a  good  deal  over  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars;  and  if  I  had  it  now,  I  would 
give  every  cent  of  it  for  a  ditch  two  feet  deep  with  a  bank 
two  feet  high  on  the  far  side." 

"A  hundred  dollars  a  foot  is  a  good  deal  of  money  for 
a  little  thing  we  might  just  as  well  have  had  for  nothing; 
but  it  would  be  worth  it." 

The  ground  is  mostly  clear  of  trees  for  a  quarter  mile 
or  more  in  front  of  the  color  line,  and  across  this  space 
and  into  the  woods  beyond  all  eyes  are  anxiously  looking. 

Just  now  some  movement  is  noticeable  on  the  right 
rear  of  the  Sixth.  A  battery  of  artillery  swings  grandly 
into  position  there  and  unlimbers  for  action — six  fierce 
muzzles   pointing    terribly   toward  the    foe.     The  horses 


278  THE  CAPTAIN    OF  COMPANY   K. 

are  quickly  unhitched  and  trotted  clattering  out  of  sight 
to  the  rear. 

Will  sees  Mac  look  at  the  battery  with  unusual  interest, 
finally  using  his  field-glass  to  examine  its  guidons  and 
other  distinguishing  features. 

"What  is  it,  Mac?" 

"Captain  Fargeon,  those  are  regulars.  That  is  a  bat- 
tery of  the  Fourth  United  States  Artillery — and  I  feel  as 
if  I  ought  to  raise  my  hat  as  I  name  the  regiment." 

Suddenly,  from  the  woods  in  front,  come  puffs  of 
smoke  and  a  second  later  the  reports  of  muskets,  mingled 
with  the  shrill  whistle  of  bullets. 

"Now  watch  the  guns!"  cries  Mac,  regardless  of  the 
enemy's  fire. 

On  the  instant  six  terrific  roars  burst  from  the  six 
field-pieces,  each  gun  giving  a  frantic  leap  backward  as 
the  flame  spouts  from  its  throat. 

Before  the  sound  ceases  the  shells  can  be  heard  explod- 
ing in  the  opposite  woods  and  the  branches  of  trees  be  seen 
dropping  to  the  ground,  while  the  musketry  stops  utterly. 

"Ha,  ha!  Johnny  Reb !  How  does  those  pills  suit 
your  complaint?" 

"But,  Mac,  it's  only  the  musket  that  means  business,  you 
know. " 

"No — well — 3'es.  But  take  a  battery  served  like  that, 
and — well,  I'd  full  as  lief  have  it  on  my  side  as  against 
me."     And  Mac  walks  gayly  back  to  his  post  on  the  left. 

After  a  second  round  the  battery  ceases  firing,  the  Con- 
federate musketry  in  the  immediate  front  having  sud- 
denly stopped  and  the  distant  woods  grown  as  silent  as  a 
forest  primeval.  No  sign  of  life  in  sight,  except  two 
buzzards  circling  lazily  about  high  in  air,  floating  with 
motionless  wings — waiting,  waiting.  Their  patience  will 
be  rewarded. 


THE    SIXTH    AT    THE    BATTLE    OF    SKILOH.  279 

Meanwhile  the  distant  battle  rages  to  right  and  left, 
its  horrid  voice  always  advancing,  and  before  long  an 
aide  is  seen  to  gallop  up  from  the  rear,  speak  a  few 
words  to  the  battery  officers  and  gallop  back.  Then  the 
battery  reopens,  and  Will  says  to  himself: 

"Thank  God!      I  wonder  why  they  stopped." 


How  do  men  fall  in  battle?        ** 

Forward,  as  fall  other  slaughtered  animals.  Homer 
says,  not  once,  or  twice,  but  often,  "Death  unstrung  his 
limbs."  Again:  "Then  the  hero  stayed  fallen  upon  his 
knees,  and  with  stout  hand  leant  upon  the  earth,  and  the 
darkness  of  night  veiled  his  eyes." 

As  they  fall,  so  they  lie,  so  they  die  and  so  they 
stiffen;  and  all  the  contortions  seen  by  burial  details  and 
depicted  by  Verestschagin  and  other  realistic  painters 
are  the  natural  result  of  the  removal  of  bodies  which 
have  fallen  with  faces  and  limbs  to  the  earth,  and  grown 
rigid  without  the  rearrangement  of  "decent  burial." 

To  learn  all  these  things,  one  needs  only  to  watch 
Company  K  through  this  day,  Sunday,  April  6,  1862. 
Then  one  must  pause  to  remind  himself  that  war  did 
not  invent  death;  nor  does  even  blessed  peace  prevent  it. 

"War  is  a  game  which,  were  their  subjects  wise, 
Kings  would  not  play  at." — Coiv/>er. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

BATTLE  AND    MURDER    AND    SUDDEN   DEATH. 

HE  battery  was  quickly  enveloped  in  its 
own  smoke,  through  which  were  dimly  visi- 
ble hurrying  forms,  wildly  waving  ram- 
mers and  great  spouts  of  flame  at 
each  discharge.  Again  the  great  roars 
burst  out,  and  again,  and  again;  and 
each  explosion  was  sharp,  ear-hurting, 
cruel.  Not  the  grand,  soul-stirring 
report  and  roll  of  a  thunder-clap  or  a 
cannon  afar  off,  but  a  noise,  physically 
painful  and  abhorrent. 

Will's  mind  sought  relief  from  the 
dreadful  tension  of  waiting  for  battle 
by  straying  off  to  untimely  vagaries. 
"That  hideous  sound  is  the  sweet- 
est music  my  ears  ever  listened  to.  No  mother's  lullaby 
to  a  frightened  child  was  ever  more  comforting,  consol- 
ing, soothing.  How  wretched  must  one  be  when  that  com- 
forts him!  Well,  I  am  wretched!  I  am  a  miserable 
man — unhappy,  low-spirited,  despairing — in  view  of  the 
things  which  this  day  has  in  store.  This  long,  dreadful 
day!  How  hellishly  they  are  fighting  over  there  toward 
our  left!  Musketry  and  artillery — it  certainly  seems 
further  back  than  we  are!  But  so  long  as  our  immediate 
neighbors  are  on  our  line,  we  must  stand  fast  and  sup- 
port our  battery,  as  Mac  says. 

280 


BATTLE  AND  MURDER  AND  SUDDEN  DEATH.       201 

"That's  right,  gunners!  Fire  fast — make  a  wall  of  iron 
against  them!  Don't  let  your  music  stop  an  instant — 
shut  out  that  rattle  from  the  left!  A  man  must  be  falling 
there  with  every  tick  of  the  clock.  Oh,  when  will  our 
turn  come?  Load  and  fire,  gunners,  load  and  fire — and 
God  bless  you  for  it!  " 

Mac  approached  again. 

'  Those  battery-men  are  doing  wrong,  and  they  know 
it!  I'll  bet  my  life  that  some  fool  brigadier-general  is 
at  the  bottom  of  it — shooting  away  all  their  ammunition 
at  nothing  under  God's  Heaven  but  gopher-holes  and 
birds'  nests." 

"Why,  Mac,  I  was  just  wishing  they  would  go  on  all 
day  and  prevent  the  rebels  from  coming  across  that  open 
space  at  all." 

"Oh,  they  can't  do  that.  Amount  of  it  will  be  that  the 
rebs  will  bring  up  two  or  three  batteries  to  silence  them; 
then  they  can't  help  us  when  we  need  it.  They  ought  to 
lie  low  now  till  the  Johnnies  show  themselves  again." 

"Maybe  they  are  told  to  keep  firing  for  the  sake  of  the 
moral  effect  on  our  men." 

"Like  enough.  But  I'd  rather  hold  'em  for  a  physical 
effect  on  the  other  fellers." 

They  separated,  much  to  Will's  regret,  for  he  loved 
to  lean  on  Mac's  cool  strength  and  forgetfulness  of  dan- 
ger. And  then,  too,  the  accurate  instinct  of  the  lieu- 
tenant made  his  captain  now  look  with  dread  for  an  artil- 
lery attack  directed  against  the  laboring  battery — and  he 
did  not  have  to  look  long  before  it  came. 

Several  reports  in  rapid  though  irregular  succession 
sounded  from  the  far  front,  and  missiles  came  plunging 
over,  all  evidently  meant  for  the  battery,  but  some  of 
them  straying  far  enough  to  make  the  neighborhood  very 
uncomfortable  for  the  Sixth  Illinois. 


2«2 


THE   CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 


"How  under  Heaven  can  the  battery-men  stand  that 
dreadful  storm?  Oh,  don't!  Oh,  don't/  Look  what  you 
are  doing!"  he  added  aloud,  apostrophizing  the  enemy. 
A  moment  after  uttering  this  childish  supplication. 
Will  saw  the  full  absurdity  of  it,  and  could  have  laughed 
out  at  himself  if  he  could  have  laughed  at  anything. 

The  sound  of  galloping  came  from  the  rear.  Will 
looked  back  and  saw  a  riderless  horse,  with  artillery 
harness  on,  coming  toward  him  at  full  speed.  He  tried 
to  stop  the  craz}^  brute,  but  it  only  swerved,  and  rushed 

on.  As  it  passed  he 
saw  a  rent  in  its  side. 
A  passed  shell  must 
have  reached  the  place 
where  the  battery 
horses  were  held. 

"Look  out!  Look 
out,  men!"  Too  late. 
The  beast  dashed 
blindly  through  Com- 
pany K.  Three  men 
went  down;  one  got 
up  and  recovered  his 
musket;  one  sat  up  and  pressed  his  hand  to  his  side;  one 
lay  still  whsre  he  fell. 

"Stand  fast,  men!  Sia/ui  fast!"  shouted  Mac,  restrain- 
ing the  overwhelming  instinct  of  humanity  to  fly  to  the 
succor  of  a  brother  in  distress. 

"Sarg'nt  Chipstone,  take  a  file  of  men  and  bring  those 
wounded  here  to  me;  then  get  back  to  your  places." 
Then,  turning  to  the  rear,  he  called:  "Litter-bearers, 
this  way!" 

One  man,  with  ribs  probably  splintered,  was  helped 
back.     But  poor  Harry  Planter,  just  out  of  the  hospital, 


BATTLE  AND  MURDER  AND  SUDDEN  DEATH.      283 

was  past  help.  His  back  was  broken.  Twice  hit,  both 
times  from  the  rear,  and  his  task  was  done. 

The  horse,  on  getting  into  the  open  place,  stopped 
and  looked  about  him,  showing  no  consciousness  of  his 
wound  except  by  ceaselessly  brushing  that  side  with 
his  tail. 

"Tolliver, "  said  Mac,  'see  if  you  can  fetch  him." 
(Tolliver  was  a  famous  marksman.)  While  he  was 
kneeling,  waiting  for  the  victim  to  present  a  favorable 
shot,  the  horse  began  to  nibble  at  the  herbage  at  his  feet. 

Will  thought,  "What  a  God's  blessing  it  is  to  be 
without  imagination!" 

Tolliver' s  piece  rang  out. 

"Missed  him!" 

"Missed  him,  did  I?"  cried  Tolliver  with  sarcastic  in- 
tonation while  he  reloaded  his  piece.  At  the  same  time 
the  beast  began  to  turn  about  as  if  on  a  pivot,  and 
presently  went  down  with  a  resounding  thud.  "Missed 
him  right  through  the  brain  behind  the  eyes." 


The  battery,  by  irresistible  impulse,  had  now  turned  its 
fire  away  from  the  point  whence  infantry  was  to  be  ex- 
pected, and  toward  the  artillery  which  was  raining  shell 
and  schrapnel  upon  it.  This  left  the  opposite  woods 
unmolested,  and  bullets  began  to  come  from  there  in 
deadly  numbers.  A  good  many  of  the  Sixth's  men  had 
been  carried  back;   and  murmurs  began  to  be  heard. 

"For  God's  sake,  let  us  shoot,  or  lie  down,  or  some- 
thing!" 

Lieut. -Colonel  Isaacs,  anxious  for  both  the  honor  and 
safety  of  his  regiment,  came  down  to  its  left  flank  to 
hear  what  K's  officers  had  to  say.      Mac  spoke: 

"Only  one  objection  to  lying  down — that  is  that  the 
men  are  almost  sure  to  fire  high.   If  you  can  stop  that — " 


284  THE   CAPTAIN    OF  COMPANY  K. 

"We'll  do  it.  Lie  down,  boys,  and  mind  what  I'm  go- 
ing to  tell  you.  Don't  fire  till  I  tell  you,  and  then  fire 
at  the  enemy's  feet.  Every  man  of  you,  try  to  put  his 
bullet  into  the  toe  of  a  reb's  boot!  Tit  for  tat,  and 
something  to  boot!" 

Down  went  the  company,  officers  and  men,  glad  of  the 
relief.  Isaacs  hurried  along  the  line,  repeating  his  or- 
ders, so  that  every  man  was  sure  to  hear  them.  But  the 
brave  commander,  now  the  most  conspicuous;  mark,  was 
soon  laid  Ic^w  with  a  disabling  wound;  and  then  the  group 
that  gathered  to  help  him  off  lost  a  man — killed  stone 
dead.  The  major,  stunned  by  the  situation,  seemed  to 
have  nothing  to  say,  and  the  long  line  of  gray  coats  now 
came  into  plain  though  distant  view,  advancing  over 
the  open  space.  Few  of  the  men  knew  that  the  lieu- 
tenant-colonel was  hurt,  and  all  anxiously  awaited  his 
order  to  begin  firing,  as  the  regiments  to  right  and  left 
were  doing. 

At  last  Mac  Jeaped  to  his  feet  and  ran  to  where  the 
major  was  squatting  behind  a  slight  rise  of  ground. 

"Shall  we  open  fire,  sir?" 

The  major  nodded  dumbly,  and  Mac  walked  back  along 
the  line. 

"Boys"  (drawling),  "if  you're  going  to  fire  high,  you 
can't  fire  at  all;  but  if  you'll  aim  low,  wh)^,  then  let  'em 
have  it,  and  God  have  mercy  on  their  damned  souls." 

The  last  words  were  inaudible  in  the  volley  that  fol- 
lowed ;  probably  one  of  the  most  destructive  ever  deliv- 
ered by  any  six  hundred  men  since  the  war  began.  The 
advancing  enemy  fairly  withered  away.  Like  ripe  fruit 
when  the  gust  first  strikes  the  tree  dropped  the  hurt, 
and  like  leaves  before  the  wind  fled  the  unhurt. 

When  the  fugitives  had  melted  into  the  woods  again, 
the  firing    recommenced;    evidently    from    a    supporting 


BATTLE  AND  MURDER  AND  SUDDEN  DEATH.       285 

line  which  would  soon  repeat  the  assault.  Mac  did  not 
lie  dov/n  again,  but  came  to  where  Will  crouched,  saying: 

"Major  Colemason  is  rattled,  and  there  is  practically 
nobody  in  command.  You  must  take  it  if  nobody  else 
does. " 

"Get  down,  Mac!  Get  down!  You  won't?  Then  I'll 
have  to  get  up,  though  I  hate  to.  There!  Now,  where' s 
Chafierty?  Where  are  all  the  other  captains  who  rank 
me?" 

"Blessed  if  I  know.  But  somebody's  got  to  take 
charge  of  this  regiment.  We  may  have  to  advance  or 
retreat;  and  when  we  do  it  ought  to  be  by  crders,  and 
not  by  accident.  God  knows  what's  become  of  brigade 
headquarters. " 

"Well,  Mac,  look  out  for  the  company,  and  I'll  go 
and  see  what  can  be  done.  If  I  take  charge  nominally, 
you've  got  to  have  it  really.  Don't,  I  beg  of  you,  don't 
expose  yourself  needlessly!" 

Mac  disdained  to  reply,  but  walked  slowly  up  to  take 
the  captain's  place  on  the  right  flank,  and  stood  there 
erect,  watching  the  point  where  the  enemy  must  be 
forming,  under  cover  of  their  own  smoke,  for  a  deter- 
mined advance. 

Fargeon  found  the  ranking  captain,  and  together  they 
visited  the  group  surrounding  the  stunned  major,  includ- 
ing the  adjutant  and  two  of  the  staff,  crouching  together. 

"Major  Colemason,  the  enemy  is  massing  for  another 
charge.      Have  you  any  orders  to  give?" 

The  poor  fellow  (who  had  always  done  well  in  all 
subordinate  capacities)  had  nothing  to  say.  He  was  too 
dazed  either  to  command  or  to  abdicate,  and  the  two 
captains  returned  to  their  companies,  through  a  scatter- 
ing drive  (not  a  storm)  of  bullets.  Fargeon  had  well- 
nigh  forgotten  them;    and  again  his  mind  wandered    off 


286  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

on  trivial  things.  He  wondered  what  time  it  was;  and 
found  that  he  could  not  guess — could  not  remember 
whether  it  was  morning  or  afternoon,  and  whether  his 
last  meal,  which  seemed  a  month  ago,  had  been  breakfast, 
dinner,  or  supper.  There  were  the  enemy,  visible  and 
advancing.  There  stood  Mac  like  a  statue;  there  lay  the 
dead  and  wounded  who  had  been  dragged  back,  and  there 
lay  Company  K  awaiting  orders  to  open  fire. 

Lacking  the  restraining  force  of  their  commander,  the 
Sixth  began  firing  earlier  than  before,  and,  of  cou-se, 
less  effectively.  The  brave  enemy  continued  to  come 
on,  firing  as  the}'  came.  But  the  charging  rank,  partly 
through  wounds  and  partly  through  defections,  grew  thin- 
ner and  thinner;  and  its  proportionate  losses  grew  larger 
as  there  were  fewer  left  to  fire  at. 

Human  nature  could  not  stand  it,  and  the  foe  at  last 
wavered,  halted,  and  turned  back,  leaving  some  of  their 
fallen  within  what  seemed  only  fifty  paces  of  our  front. 
Then,  again,  the  absence  of  a  restraining  head  worked 
ill  for  the  Sixth.  The  men,  unmindful  of  flank  or  rear, 
regardless  of  the  absence  of  orders,  jumped  up  with  a 
hurrah  and  pursued  the  retreating  line  until  it  passed 
through  and  unmasked  a  solid  brigade  with  loaded 
muskets,  which  met  our  force  with  a  burst  of  fire  that  sent 
us  reeling  back  in  turn.  We  had  a  score  or  two  of  prison- 
ers, wounded  and  unwounded;  but  almost  a  tenth  of  our 
brave  fellows  were  laid  low  by  that  first  volley  or  by  the 
losses  in  the  retreat.  Most  of  our  wounded — all  who  were 
not  obviously  past  help — were  lugged  back  b}'  their  com- 
rades, some  of  whom  were  hit  in  the  act  of  helping 
others.  With  difficulty  were  the  flying  men  halted  at 
their  own  color  line;  but  Company  K  having  set  them 
the  example  (its  officers  calling  "Halt,  Company  K! 
Steady,  men!    Steady!"),  the   others    either    stopped    on 


BATTLE  AND  MURDER  AND  SUDDEN  DEATH.      287 

the  line  or  came  back  to  it  after  drifting  a  few  rods 
beyond. 

As  Fargeon  recovered  his  breath  and  his  pulse  slowed 
down,  thought  resumed  its  mastery  over  feeling. 

"Wholesale  slaughter  is  less  dreadful  than  retail  kill- 
ing. A  dozen  of  my  good  friends — besides  scores  of 
men  whom  I  know  by  sight — are  dead  or  dying  around 
me;  and  I  am  less  affected  than  I  should  be  by  seeing 
any  one  of  them  Ijnng  there  alone.  Tolliver,  the  wit — 
he's  gone.  Those  expressive  brows  will  move  nevermore 
while  the  world  turns  round.  So  i  s  Aleck  Thrush — that 
leaves  the  old  mother  with  no  son,  those  girls  with  no 
brother.  Jeff  Cobb  is  among  the  wounded.  If  Jeff  goes 
under,  what  will  the  boys  do  for  a  laugh  in  their  dreariest 
hours,  without  him  to  turn  sufferings  into  drolleries? 
Oh,  is  there  no  God  in  Heaven.^*" 

Now  came  cries  from  the  right. 

"Lie  do.vn,  men!  Lie  flat  down!  The  battery  is 
going  to  fire  over  you!" 

Down  they  went;  lying  closer  from  their  friends'  fire 
than  they  had  from  their  enemies'.  Even  the  gravest 
situations  have  their  ludicrous  side,  and  here  was  wound- 
ed Jeff  Cobb's  chance.  He  called  from  his  lying  place 
among  the  wounded  : 

"Say,  fellers,  I'll  bet  you  can  find  this  spot  a  year 
from  nov/  by  the  line  of  holes  your  noses  are  rooting  in 
the  ground." 

A  smothered  laugh  greeted  the  suggestion,  and  each 
man  with  a  prominent  or  peculiar  organ  was  congratu- 
lated with  the  promise  of  being  able  to  identify  his  spot. 

In  sober  earnest,  it  was  a  most  trying  experience.  The 
shriek  of  the  missiles  which  were  passing  over  from  be- 
hind them  was  indescribably  appalling,  and  there  was 
constant  apprehension  that  a  shell   with    imperfect   fuse 


288  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

might  Durst  directly  above  our  lines.  Even  short  of 
this  disaster  there  was  the  constant,  vicious  rain  of 
fragments  of  the  "sabots"  or  wooden  sockets  in  which 
shells  and  schrapnel  are  encased;  which  give  severe 
bruises,  though  not  often  dangerous  wounds.  All  of  the 
wounded  whose  hurts  permitted  it  walked  toward  the 
rear;  but  the  rest  were  left  lying  there,  no  stretchers 
having  been  available  for  a  long,  long  time.  * 

Company  K,  and  indeed  the  whole  left  of  the  regi- 
ment, was  comparatively  out  of  the  line  of  our  artillery 
fire,  which  passed  directly  over  the  right  flank;  and  Mc- 
Clintock  continued  to  stand  coolly  erect.  Presently  he 
walked  over  to  where  Fargeon  lay. 

"The  Johnnies  are  still  coming.   Captain." 

"What!"  cried  Will,  rising  on  his  elbow.  "Coming  on 
through  that  hell-fire?" 

"Ya-as.      The  shells  are  bursting  mostly  be3'ond  them." 

"Why  don't  we  try  grape  and  canister?" 

"They  aren't  quite  near  enough  for  canister — couldn't 
fire  it  over  our  own  men,  anyhow — and  we  don' t  use  grape- 
shot  now  except  in  the  navy," 

"Why,  the  newspapers  always  talk  about  'grape  and 
canister.'" 

"That  shows  how  much  they  know  of  what  they're 
talking  about. ' 

Fargeon  got  upon  his  feet, 

"Mac,  suppose  we  let  K  open  fire.  We  seem  safe  here 
from  our  artillery." 

"Just  what  I'm  thinking  of.  K  and  I,  and  maybe  H, 
might  do  some  good.  If  K  sets  the  example  it'll 
spread.  We'  re  bound  to  support  our  artillery,  orders  or  no 
orders.  And  I'm  afraid  (with  an  anxious  look  toward  our 
left)that  the  battery  ought  to  be  getting  back  now,  by  the 
way  the  firing  seems  to  be   drifting   past   us   over   there. 


C/3 


289 


ago  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY   K. 

But  good  Lord!  if  the  old  Fourth  gets  no  order  to  go, 
they'll  stay  there  till  the  last  man  falls." 

As  he  walked  back  to  his  place  he  said,  »in  his  own 
bantering  tone: 

"Boys,  what's  the  matter  with  your  raising  up  jest 
enough  to  see  the  rebs,  and  send  'em  your  cards  and 
then  git  down  again  to  load?  But  fire  slow  and  fire  low. 
You  hear  me?" 

Permission  was  all  the  boys  wanted,  and  a  rattling 
volley  burst  from  their  front.  Whether  it  killed  or  not, 
it  had  one  valuable  effect — that  of  diverting  part  of  the 
enemy's  fire  from  the  battery  (which  had  been  catching 
it  all)  to  the  direction  of  Company  K.  Several  hun- 
dred confederate  muskets  responded  to  the  sixty  or  sev- 
enty pieces  which  were  all  the  effectives  K  now  pos- 
sessed (even  including  its  impressed  men),  and  the  con- 
centration, together  with  the  battery  fire,  was  very 
severe;  more  so  than  any  previous  experience  that  Will 
had  met  with.  Two  men  in  Company  K,  after  a  startled 
shock  and  a  cry,  clambered  up  and  made  their  way  rear- 
ward; one  gave  the  cry — but  lay  still,  half  turned  on  his 
side,  his  knees  drawn  up.  Fargeon,  stooping,  started 
over  to  get  from  dear,  splendid,  glorious  Mac,  either 
relief  or  strength  to  bear  the  strain. 

"Mac  must  have  dropped  his  pipe;  he  is  looking  down 
for  something.  There,  he  is  stooping  for  it — he  is  on 
his  knees  feeling  for  it — he  is  on  his  face!  Oh,  my  God! 
Oh,  GOD  in  HEAVEN!" 

No  one  but  Will  had  seen  Mac  fall.  No  one  else  saw 
the  rent  in  the  back  of  his  collar  where  the  bullet  had 
came  out;  no  one  helped  turn  him  over;  then  a  shriek 
from  the  grief-stricken  captain  brought  others  to  his  aid. 

Fruitless  the  care  that  dragged  the  fallen  hero  a  little 
aside.  When  they  laid  flat  his  broad  shoulders  his  fine  head 


BATTLE  AND    MURDER   AND    SUDDEN    DEATH.  29I 

fell  back  and  showed  the  deadly  wound — sheer  through 
the  neck,  a  little  to  the  right  of  the  windpipe.  The 
brave  eyes  were  already  sightless,  though  the  jaw  had 
not  yet  dropped  and  the  breath  was  still  feebly  passing. 

Will  fell  upon  his  knees  and  bowed  his  breast  on  the 
shoulder  of  his  friend.  His  lips  sought  the  cruel  lacera- 
tion, whence  red  blood  was  slowly  oozing,  warm,  saltish, 
and  sickening.  He  leaped  to  his  feet,  and  his  voice 
called  the  name  of  the  Deity — the  name  and  some  of  the 
merciful  attributes.  Certain  men  of  the  awe-struck 
group  thought  he  uttered  a  prayer;  others — those  near- 
est him — thought  that  his  words  were  a  blasphemous 
denial  of  his  God  and  abjuration  of  his  cherished  faith. 

He  faced  the  bullets,  coming  thick  and  fast,  and  made 
as  if  he  would  rush  at  the  enemy  for  revenge  and  death. 
But  in  his  path  were  crouched,  loading  and  firing,  the  sol- 
diers of  Company  K — the  great  lieutenant's  fellow-sol- 
diers— now  reduced  almost  to  a  single  rank. 

Mac's  voice  seemed  to  reach  his  ears;  to  whisper  to 
him,  drawling  through  the  uproar: 

"Duty  first;    then  death.     You  hear  me?" 

A  sudden  calm  fell  upon  him.  Mac's  spirit  entered  his 
breast.  He  walked  slowly  along  the  line,  saying  in 
almost  Mac's  tone: 

"Fire  slow  and  fire  low,  boys.     Fire  slow  and  fire  low." 

He  came  to  where  Morphy  was  crouching,  and  heard 
him  ask: 

"Is  it  true.  Captain?" 

"Yes,  Barney.     Go  over  and  take  his  place." 

Scarcely  had  the  second  lieutenant  got  to  the  flank 
when  he  shouted  back: 

"Captain!  Captain!  The  other  regiment  is  gone 
from  our  left." 

Fargeon  hurried  back.      Not  a  man  was  to  be  seen  on 


292  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

that  part  of  our  line.  He  cried  piteously,  with  tears  in 
his  tones: 

"Oh,  Mac!  Mac!  What  shall  I  do?"  But  the  beloved 
voice  was  silent. 

A  litter  had  come,  and  two  litter-bearers,  assisted  by 
two  of  Company  K's  men,  were  placing  Mac's  body  on 
it.  When  the  litter  started  for  the  rear  Will  observed 
that  his  two  soldiers  were  going  with  it. 

"Come  back!  Come  back  here,  you  cowards!  Take 
your  places  in  the  ranks." 

One  returned;  the  other,  Dugong,  pretended  not  to 
hear,  but  kept  ahead  of  the  litter,  prepared  to  break 
into  a  run  if  followed. 

"Dugong!  Caleb  Dugong!  "  He  could  have  shot  him 
through  the  heart  without  a  pang. 

"I  will  stop  being  myself.  I  will  be  Mac.  Let  me  see 
— let  me  see — the  last  thing  he  said  was  'we  must  sup- 
port our  battery.'  No,  after  that  he  said  'the  battery 
ought  to  be  getting  back.'     That  is  my  law." 

He  ran  to  the  battery,  now  almost  silenced  by  the 
deadly  musketry,  though  one  gun-squad  seemed  to  be 
still  working,  sending  its  isolated  missiles. 

"Captain!     Officer  in  command!" 

"The  captain  and  lieutenants  are  all  killed  or  wounded- 
I  am  the  sarg'nt  in  command.     What  do  you  want?" 

"Get  your  battery  back,  for  God's  sake!  We've  got 
to  go! " 

"Very  well,  sir," 

Then  he  saw  the  surviving  artillery-men — splendid 
veteran  soldiers — seize  the  prolonges  and  begin  to  pull 
the  guns  back  by  hand  toward  where  the  horses  were 
held.  He  ran  to  where  he  had  seen  the  major  and 
adjutant,  but  failed  to  find  them.  He  ran  along  the  line 
of  the  Sixth,  shouting: 


BATTLE  AND  MURDER  AND  SUDDEN  DEATH.      293 

"All  our  men    are  gone  from    the  left  of    Company  K. 

The  battery    is  going.      Let  us  get  back    in  good    order, 

boys,  keeping  between    the  enemy  and    the  battery.      It 

is  all  we  can  do."      ["Was    that    like  Mac?     I  hope  so; 

*  I  hope  so."] 

"Retreat!      Retreat!" 

The  cry  traveled  along  the  regimental  line  faster  than 
he  did,  and  Company  K  had  left  its  place  before  he  got 
there.  As  he  reached  the  line  he  observed  that  one  man, 
Ed  Ranney,  lay  still,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  the  order. 
He  ran  to  him,  touched  him  with  his  foot  and  screamed: 
"Retreat,  Ed!" — to  ears  closed  in  death.  Then  he  fol- 
lowed the  rest,  but  not  without  a  lingering  look  backward 
and  a  sob  as  he  tore  himself  away  from  his  dead  friends. 

"Steady,  boys!  Watch  the  colors  and  carry  along  our 
wounded,  and  don't  go  any  faster  than  the  flag  goes." 
["Was  that  like  Mac?"] 

"Load  as  you  go,  boys;  and  turn  and  fire  when  you 
can.  Keep  even  with  the  colors."  ["Was  that  like 
Mac?"] 

They  could  easily  get  away  from  the  enemies  in  their 
immediate  front,  but,  alas!  those  on  the  left  (now  on 
their  right  hand)  had  passed  them  and  were  firing  at 
them  from  that  side.  Friends  fell  faster  and  faster; 
it  was  in  vain  to  tiy  to  care  for  them. 

"Drop  the  wounded  and  close  in  toward  the  flag!" 
["Was  that  like  Mac?  Oh,  poor  Jeff  Cobb  and  the  others! 
My  God,  my  God!  "] 

As  K  crowded  in  toward  the  center,  all  order  was  soon 
lost,  and  the  once  glorious  Sixth  Illinois  became  a  mere 
mob  of  running  men  and  officers,  protecting  the  flag 
more  by  the  interposition  of  their  bodies  than  by  the 
use  of  their  guns.  Will  was  among  the  rearmost  of  the 
unwounded;    while   behind   him    came   a   pitiful,  halting 


294  "^^^  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

few  of  wounded,  growing  fewer  as  the  strength  gave 
out  of  one  after  another,  though  others  were  constantly 
dropping  under  the  fire  from  front  and  flank. 

The  place  of  honor  was  with  Will  in  the  rear.  Those 
who  took  no  chances  hurried  forward,  but  the  best  and 
bravest  woLild  pause  to  fire  back,  while  the  rest  outstrip- 
ped and  passed  them.  Will  was  gratified — and  distressed 
— to  observe  that  these  were  nearly  all  his  blessed  Com- 
pany K  men. 

Suddenly  the  very  nearest  man  to  him  dropped.  It 
was  George  Friend.  George  climbed  to  his  feet  again — 
or,  rather,  to  his  foot — reversed  his  nuisket,  gripped  the 
butt,  and  began  a  frenzied  effort  to  keep  up  by  prodding 
the  ground  with  the  muzzle,  and  so  helping  himself  nlong. 

"Can  you  make  it,  George?" 

"I  could.  Captain,  if  it  Avasn't  for  this  cursed  foot." 
Will  looked  down — the  misshapen  member  was  all  awry 
and  pointing  inward.  They  were  getting  isolated — he 
must  leave  him. 

"Oh,  Cap!    Ca — an^ t  you  take  me  alo — ong?" 

Reverently  be  it  said,  there  were  tears  furrowing  the 
powder-grime  on  that  brave  face  as  Will  saw  it  for  the 
last  time  on  earth. 

Fargeon,  running,  gripped  his  own  head  with  both 
hands,  crying : 

"Oh,  God!      I  wish  I  were  dead,  dead,  DEAD!" 

The  last  word  was  a  scream,  but  nobody  heard  it  ex- 
cept himself. 


Why  can  he  no  longer  see  plainly?  What  is  this 
shadow  they  have  run  into? 

Why — -it  is  nightfall!  He  had  forgotten  there  was 
any  day  or  night — any  flight  of  measured  time.  All 
seemed  merged  into  an  awful,  hideous  eternity. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

OH,    WHERE    IS    MAC  ? 

'he  fragments  of  the  Sixth  Illinois  halted 
behind  the  first  orderly  body  of  troops 
they  came  to — a  fine,  large,  new  Michi- 
\j  gan  regiment,  well  posted,  cool,  brave, 
undismayed  by  the  disasters  in  their 
neighborhood.  When  the  Sixth  got  in- 
to line  again  it  showed  a  little  over 
three  hundred  rank  and  file;  Company  K  only  twenty- 
eight  of  its  own  men,  all  told.  The  line  was  only  four- 
teen men  long!  It  seemed  as  if  Fargeon  on  the  right 
and  Morphy  on  the  left  could  have  touched  swords! 
Will  set  his  teeth  hard  to  suppress  a  sob. 

The  pursuit  died  away  with  the  light,  and  they  heard 
no  more  of  the  foe  that  night.  The  Michigan  men  gave 
them  some  supper — it  did  not  take  much  to  go  round 
now,  and  the  boys  would  rather  sleep  than  eat.  Numb, 
dazed,  silence  and  quietude  was  all  they  were  good  for. 
Their  own  lost  and  scattered  wounded  were  almost  forgot- 
ten. Many  a  battle-evening  has  seen  a  whole  army  in  this 
state;  to  be  hounded,  later,  by  ferocious  shrieks  from 
the  non-combatants  (far  in  the  rear)  asking:  "Why  was 
not  the  battle  renewed  next   morning?" 

Nothing  coald  be  learned  of  the  litter-bearers  or  of 
Dugong.  (It  afterward  transpired  that  the  latter  was  one  of 
the  many  thousand  "stragglers"  who  gathered  on  the  shore 
and  tried  to  board  the  transport  steamers  and  gunboats.) 

295 


2g6  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

The  impulse  to  "ask  Mac"  kept  recurring  to  Will  at 
every  turn,  and  he  wandered  back  and  forth  like  a  lost 
soul,   his  nature  struggling  between  pain  and  torpor. 

"Caftain, "  whispered  a  low  voice  in  the  darkness, 
"I'm  afrehd — I  smell  smoak  over  thayre. " 

Will  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot.  Fire?  Fire 
among  those  wounded?  Is  there  no  God  in  Heaven? 
Nothing  but  a  devil?  Why — his  nostrils  seem  full  of 
the  smell  of  burning  grass — or  is  it  only  his  crazy  fancy? 
He  cannot  tell. 

"Doan't  mind,  Caftain,  dayr.  Mebbe  it's  nothin'  at- 
all-at-all — nothin'  but  the  ould  fowder-smoak.  Noah, 
it's  not,  flayze  God;  it's  not.  But  he  moight  bea-lyin' 
somewheres  about  thayr  yit." 

"Mark!     God  bless  you,  Mark!     Do  you  think  so?" 

"Well,  sorr — there's  nothin'  loike  thryin' — av  ye'd 
gimme  me  lave,  an'  git  me  the  countersign  to  come  back 
wid,  I'd  snake  along  as  far  as  I  cud,  annyhow.  I  wud; 
oah,  I  wud. " 

"Come  back  in  a  few  minutes,  Mark,  and  we  will  try." 

Mark  pleaded  sore  to  be  allowed  to  go  alone,  but  this 
Will  would  not  hear  of;  so,  after  the  bivouac  grew  quiet, 
the  two  set  forth  past  the  outposts,  into  the  shadowy 
golgotha  beyond.  Dead  and  wounded  were  scattered 
sparsely  over  the  plain.  A  light  rain  was  falling;  thus 
the  awful  fear  of  fire  was  relieved,  and  the  living  were 
freed  from  the  awful  wound-thirst.  As  Will  tramped 
along,  grateful  for  the  rain,  he  thought.  "Yes,  there  is  a 
God.  Rains  are  apt  to  follow  battles."  But  soon  the 
hateful  question  obtruded  itself:  "Then  did  no  wounded 
Mac  ever  die  in  the  torments  of  fire  and  thirst?  Aye, 
thousands!  "     So  does  war  tamper  with  Faith. 

"Do  you  think  we're  going  right,  Mark?" 

"Divvle  the  fayr,  Caftain.      I  remimber  thim  fallen 


OH,    WHERE    IS    MAC  ?  297 

trees  wid    the  underbroosh    round    'em.     We're    all    of 
half-way  back." 

A  little  later  he  added: 

"Here's  the  shtraym  we  got  wather  fiam  ferthe  camf." 

They  crossed  it  and  pushed  on. 

"Nixt  thing' 11  be  our  ground — the  hornet's  nest." 
(Mark  gave  the  spot  its  name,  which  it  goes  by  to  this  day. ) 

"Halt!     Who  goes  there?" 

They  have  run  upon  a  Confederate  outpost.  Nothing 
for  it  but  to  go  back;    their  errand  of  love  has  failed. 

"Come  back  here,  you  corpse-robbers,  or  we'll  fire  on 
you!" 

They  start  on  a  run  for  the  fallen  trees,  and  some 
random  shots  are  fired  at  the  sound  of  their  retreating 
footsteps. 

"Damn  'em!  They're  Yanks!  Go  for  'em,  boj^s!  ' 
And  they  know  that  either  a  rebel  prison  or  that  brush- 
heap  is  their  refuge.  Fargeon's  legs  are  not  even  yet 
what  they  were  before  his  rheumatism;  but  he  is  making 
pretty  good  time  in  Mark's  wake,  when  he  stumbles  and 
falls  heavily,  just  in  time  to  escape  a  bullet  that  hustles 
above  him  and  strikes  the  ground  in  front.  Mark  has 
turned  round  to  see  what  keeps  his  captain,  and  the 
spent  ball,  or  a  stone  dislodged  by  it,  strikes  him  fair 
in  the  mouth. 

"Dom  yer  sowl — ye  found  me  wayk  sfot!"  he  mutters 
as  he  spits  out  the  blood  and  stoops  over  Will,  slowly 
rising  from  the  ground. 

"Lay  low,  sorr!     It's  our  only  chance!" 

Low  they  lie,  almost  breathless  with  apprehension. 
The  confederates  either  pass  wide  of  them  or  give  up 
the  chase  when  they  cease  to  hear  foo<;steps  to  guide 
them;  and  after  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Mark  ventures  to 
get  up  and  look  about  him. 


298  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

"All's  clayr,  Caftain."  He  speaks  with  even  more  in- 
distinctness than  usual,  for  his  unlucky  lips  are  hurt 
almost  beyond  speech.      "Shall  we  tthry  it  wanst  moar?" 

"Well,  Mark — there's  something  very  queer  about  rny 
ankle.  It's  broken  or  something.  I  can't  seem  to  put 
my  foot  to  the  ground  at  all." 

"Lemme  sthrike  a  match  an'  tehk  a  luk  at  it,  sorr. 
Howly  Mother  of  God — ye're  wownded,  caftain!" 

Will  groaned.  "When  I  fell  I  only  thought  I'd  struck 
my  foot,  and  that  the  pain  was  a  touch  of  the  old  Don- 
elson  soreness. "  Then,  as  the  thought  came  over  him  how 
much  this  calamity  meant,  he  groaned  again,  and  again; 
each  moan  more  heart-broken  than  the  last. 

"Well,  sorr!"  cried  Mark,  in  the  gayest  possible  tone, 
"as  the  bye  said,  the  nixt  thing  is  something  else.  Ye 
must  let  me  carry  ye!" 

"You  couldn't  begin  to  do  it,   Mark!" 

"Who,  me,  sorr?  Savin'  yer  frisence  I'll  carry  ye  to 
the  broosh-file  or  break  me  dom  back!  I  will,  sorr;  oah, 
I  will." 

Mark  kneels  down  by  Will,  and  the  latter  slowly  lifts 
himself  to  his  knees;  then  both  together  rise  erect; 
then  the  taller  throws  his  long  arms  over  the  shoulders 
of  the  other.  [The  captain  thought  of  the  Donelson  fence- 
corner — memory  is  so  closely  allied  with  the  sense  of 
smell!]  Next,  little  Mark  bends  forward  until  he  has  all 
the  weight  well  balanced,  and  then  runs  forward  with  in- 
credible strength  and  swiftness  for  fifty  or  more  short  steps 
before  stopping  for  breath,  and  pauses  while  Will  puts 
his  unhurt  foot  to  the  ground  for  a  few  moments.  These 
spurts  of  desperate  effort  become  shorter  and  shorter, 
but  they  do  pass  the  stream  and  reach  the  brush-heap  at 
last,  without  coming  in  actual  contact  with  any  of  the 
robbers  who    infest    the    field.     With    one    last    fearful 


OH,   WHERE    IS    MAC  ?  SQQ 

Struggle,  Mark  carries  his  burden  into  the  midst  of  the 
shelter  and  sinks  down  under  him,  all  spent  and  speech- 
less with  exhaustion. 

Soon  he  bursts  out  again  as  gay  as  ever: 

"Thank  God,  Caftain,  it's  warmer  weather  nor  it  wor 
v/hin  you'n  me  laid  out  t'gither  befoar!  " 

"Yes,  indeed,  Mark;   but  what  next?     "What  next?" 

"Well,  sorr — I  wish't  I  had  me   gun." 

"Do  you  think  these  hounds  may  try  to  trouble  us 
here?" 

"Well,  sorr — we'll  not  be  scairt  befoar  we're  hurted. 
But,  by  )'er  lave,  I'll  jist  skirmish  round  a  bit  till  I  see 
can  I  lay  hand  on  a  gun." 

He  departs,  and  is  gone  a  considerable  time,  during 
which  the  helpless  captain  plainly  hears  the  sound  of 
voices  near.  At  last  he  becomes  aAvare  of  some  one  ap- 
proaching, and  lies  in  anguish  of  apprehension  until  he 
hears  Mark's  tones  whispering  "Caftain"  through  the 
deep  darkness  of  the  thicket. 

"Well,  Mark,  did  you  get  a  musket?" 

"I  did,  sor;  oah  I  did.  An'  more  be  token  a  coufle  av 
'em,  an'  a  cathridge-box,  an'  some  cafs." 

"Did  I  hear  you  speaking  to  some  one?" 

"I  jist  passed  the  toime  o'  day  wid  wan  av  'em,  sorr. 
I  made  out  I  was  wan  of  thimselves — God  forgive  me! 
An'  they  axed  me  had  I  a  good  find  in  the  broosh  here. 
An'  I  tould  'em  sorra  the  taste  av  a  man,  kilt  or  wound- 
ed, was  here  at-all-at-all.  But  we'll  kafe  our  eyes  ofen 
- — we  will,  sorr;   oah  we  will." 

He  proceeds  to  load  the  muskets.  To  be  sure,  within 
ten  minutes  they  hear  somebody  pushing  in  by  the  way 
Mark  had  come.  When  the  intruder  comes  near  enough 
to  be  dangerous,  Mark  calls  out: 

"Git  out  o'  this,  ye  thafe  av  the  worrld!  " 


30O  THE   CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

"Shut  yer  mouth,  ye  dam'  sawed-off  Paddy!  Ye've 
got  a  good  thing  an'  ye' re  tryin'  to  hawg  it  all,  an'  I 
know  it,  an'  ye  can't  do  it." 

Mark  takes  one  of  the  guns  and  creeps  out,  not  di- 
rectly toward  the  sounds,  but  a  little  to  one  side.  Upon 
reflection  Will  perceives  his  object  in  this.  The  thought- 
ful fellow  knows  he  may  be  fired  at,  and  wants  to  free 
his  captain  from  the  danger  of  a  passed  shot.  The 
other  gun  Will  pulls  to  him,  prepared  for  the  worst. 
Mark,  killed  or  wounded,  will  not  be  undefended  or  un- 
avenged, as  the  case  may  be. 

After  a  moment  of  stillness,  broken  only  by  the  slowly 
advancing  footsteps,  Mark's  musket  rings  out  with  a 
roar  that  seems,  in  the  close  stillness  of  the  time  and 
place,  like  the  sound  of  a  cannon.  This  is  succeeded  by 
a  silence  more  profound  by  contrast;  unbroken  until,  after 
what  seemed  a  wonderfully  long  ti*ne,  Mark  himself 
creeps  cautiously  back. 

"Did  you  go  to  him,  Mark?" 

"I  did,  sorr;   oah,  I  did." 

"Is  he  dead?" 

"Dead  as  Julius  Sayzer,   sorr." 

"Well — I  suppose  he  deserved  it." 

"Divvle  the  doubt  av  that,  sorr;  noa,  there's  not, 
there's  not." 

"Now,  Mark,  I've  been  thinking  what  we'd  better  do. 
You  must  go  back  to  camp." 

"Oah,  Caftain  dayr — doan't  sind  me  off!  Ye'd  not  be 
safe  here,  not  an  hour!  Ye'd  be  robbed  an'  murthered 
an'  soald  for  a  slave  before  ye  knowed  where  ye  war! 
Ye  wud,  sorr;   oah,  ye  wud!" 

"Well,  but,  my  poor  boy,  what  do  you  propose  to  do?" 

"Stay  wid  ye,  Caftain — alive  or  dead,  poor  old  Mark' 11 
Stan'  by  ye  !     Ye     know  ye    stood    by  me  wanst — doan't 


OH,    WHERE    IS    MAC  ?  3OI 

ye  be  harrd  on  me — lemme  me  be  wid  ye,  whether  ye' re 
tuk  by  the  rebels  or  fwhativer  haffens.  Loike  as  not 
our  army's  fell  back  ag'in — mebbe  miles  or  more  aweh 
by  this — an'  the  inimy  comin'  forr'd — an'  av  I  lift  ye 
I'd  niver  set  eyes  on  ye  ag'in  in  the  wide  worrld!  "  And 
the  poor  fellow  boohoos  till  the  tears  run  down  over  his 
misshapen  mouth,  now  swelling  out  of  all  human  sem- 
blance. 

"Now,  Mark,  listen  to  reason.  If  our  army  has  gone 
back  I've  got  to  fall  into  the  rebels'  hands  anyhow. 
Your  staying  here  won't  save  me;  while  you  can  easily 
follow  up  the  Sixth,  save  yourself,  and  tell  them  what 
became  of  me.     See?" 

No  answer. 

"While  if  we  haven't  fallen  back,  you  may  get  together 
a  squad  with  a  litter  and  carry  me  in  before  day.     See?" 

"But,  Caftain  dayr,  if  they  haven't  fallen  back  they'll 
be  out  huntin'  us   before  daybreak  annyhow. " 

"But  they'll  never  find  us  unless  you  go  and  tell  them 
where  to  look." 

"Oah,  Caftain — I'd  sooner  cut  off  me  roight  hand  than 
lave  ye  here  aloan.     I  wud,  soa  I  wud." 

"You  may  help  me  by  going.  You  can't  help  me  by 
staying." 

The  faithful  friend  prepared  for  departure,  laying  his 
canteen  and  the  two  muskets  within  Will's  reach. 

"And  Mark — just  take  these  things  with  you."  He  took 
out  his  watch.  "Just  hand  that  to  the  surgeon  for  Mr. 
Penrose."  His  pocket-book.  "That's  for  yourself." 
Some  letters  from  his  pocket  he  kissed  before  passing 
over.  "Those  you  must  burn  as  soon  as  5^ou  find  that 
you'll  see  me  no  more.  Now  go — and  good-bye,  old  fel- 
low!    Have  your  wound  attended  to  the  first  thing." 

Mark  fell  on  his  knees  and  wept  sore. 


302  THE  CAPTAIN    OF   COMPANY  K. 

"Caftain,  if  they've  goan  I'll  niver  goa  afther  thim! 
Ye' 11  see  me  by  dehlight,  wid  help  or  aloan,  as  God 
wills." 

He  went  awa)',  and  as  long  as  he  was  within  hearing 
Will  heard  the  name  of  the  Virgin,  the  evangelists,  and 
many  a  saint,  poured  out  in  fervent  though  broken,  tear- 
ful and  imperfect  speech.  Then  begins  patience— where 
impatience  would  be  futile.  The  grass  is  wet;  the  foli- 
age is  wet;  the  night-breeze  wails  as  it  shakes  down  the 
heavy  drops.  Nature  gives  sighs  and  tears  to  her  dead 
and  dying,  while  the  black  hours  drag  their  slow  lengths 
along.  A  bird  utters  his  note.  The  east  grows  gray 
with  sweet  summer  dawn — silent,  peaceful,  strange; 
yet  no  litter  and  no  Mark  Looney.  Will  sits  up  and 
looks  at  his  wounded  ankle.  The  sight  makes  him  sick 
with  nausea,  and  he  covers  it  hastily.  He  takes  off  his 
coat,  and  tearing  off  one  shirt-sleeve,  ties  it  around  the 
shattered  joint  without  looking  at  it. 

This  fills  the  time  till  it  must  he  near  sunrise.  A 
log  is  behind  him;  he  lifts  himself  backward  until  his 
back  rests  against  it.     His  shirt-sleeveless  arm  is  chilly. 

The  day  is  going  to  be  clear  and  warm.  Not  a  sound 
of  battle  is  yet  audible.  Doubtless  the  enemy  is  forming 
for  a  grand  advance  to  follow  up  their  success.  Where 
will  they  meet  with  anything  like  organized  opposition? 
Probably  not  till  they  get  miles  beyond  where  he  lies — 
not  till  they  come  to  the  limit  of  the  gun-boats'  fire. 

Long  before  that  he  will  be  a  prisoner  in  the  hands 
of  the  enem}^  What  does  that  mean?  That  means  pri- 
vation, suffering,  delay  in  attending  to  his  wound  until,  per- 
haps, gangrene  sets  in;  then  an  amputation,  then  another, 
then  slow  death  far  from  home  and  friends — far  from 
Sally;  near,  perhaps,  to  Mac — glorious  Mac,  gloriously 
dead    in   battle.     Well,   whether    near  him  or    far    from 


OH,    WHERE    IS    MAC  ? 


303 


him,  the  thought  that  he  met  his  fate  while  trying  to 
find  Mac  will  be  a  comfort  up  to  his  last  breath. 

Still  no  Mark  and  no  litter. 

Aha!  There  is  a  cannon-shot— afar  off,  but  surely  from 
our  side!  The  enemy  could  not  have  got  so  far  forward 
as  the  place  that  sound  comes  from!  Another,  nearer, 
followed  by  five  more— a  full  battery.  He  thinks  he 
can  recognize  a  Union  ring  in  the  tone.  No  response  yet 
from  behind  him. 

The    rising  sun,  and  the  stern    determined    sound    of 

Union  guns,  brings  an 
unmistakable  revul- 
sion of  feeling.  Even 
he,  helpless,  wounded 
volunteer  as  he  is,  feels 
some  of  the  "joy  of 
battle"  as  the  night's 
gloom  meets  the  mor- 
row's reanimation. 

Still  no  sign  of 
friends  or  fellow  sol- 
diers. 

The  sound  of  can- 
non has  become  fre- 
quent. Hurrah  for 
the  conflict!  How  much  better  than  that  unopposed 
advance  of  yesterday's  victors  to  which  he  has  been  for 
many  hours  looking  forward!  Oh,  artillery;  flame  and 
thunder!  Infantry;  stand  fast!  Why — why  did  he  ever 
doubt  his  brothers-in-arms,  the  Union  volunteers! 

Can  he  raise  himself  to  a  seat  on  the  log?  He  can 
at  least  try.  There,  by  doubling  his  well  leg  under 
him,  and  then  getting  his  elbows  against  the  rough  bark, 
he  gains  an   erect  position.     Now  his  hands  on  the  log 


304  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

behind  him  raise  him  to  its  top.  He  lifts  his  leg  with 
both  hands;  it  does  not  hurt  him  much.  The  white 
shirt-sleeve  is  already  soaked  through  with  blood,  and  the 
wound  is  evidently  too  severe  to  be  acutely  painful. 

What  can  he  see? 

Nearest  him  he  can  make  out  a  reddish-gray  object 
almost  hidden  in  the  grass  and  shrubs  only  a  few  rods 
avv^ay.  It  is,  no  doubt,  Mark's  victim  of  last  night.  A 
happy  deliverance!  Can  any  man  on  earth  regret  the 
sacrifice  of  a  corpse-robber,  violating  the  bodies  of 
friend  and  foe;  and  making  small  distinction  between 
the  dead  and  the  dying? 

But  perhaps  the  first  Confederates  who  come  will  think 
that  it  was  his  (Fargeon's)  hand  that  fired  the  fatal  shot, 
and  laid  low  one  of  their  fellow-soldiers  after  the  battle 
was  done.  If  so,  what  fate  may  he  expect?  On  this  he 
ponders  long.  He  does  not  wish  to  die,  though  Mac  is 
no  more. 

What  is  visible  beyond?  Through  openings  in  the 
thicket  he  can  see  the  plain,  studded  here  and  there, 
though  sparsely,  with  prostrate  forms,  stripped  naked 
by  the  night-prowlers.  Over  toward  where  our  lines 
ought  to  be  he  strains  his  eyes.  No  sign  of  the  blessed 
Stars  and  Stripes.  Not  a  man,  nor  a  gun,  nor  even  the 
smoke  of  a  camp-fire.  Now  on  the  other  side:  With  diffi- 
culty, hampered  by  his  ruined  foot,  he  turns  his  head 
around.  There  are  the  woods  which  border  "the  hornets' 
nest"  where  the  Sixth  Illinois  yesterday  offered  itself 
on  the  Calvary  of  duty.  No  man,  or  gun,  or  flag  to  be 
seen  there,  either.  But  there  seem  to  be  pillars  of  light 
smoke,  indicating  camp-fires.  No  motion  yet  toward  re- 
newing their  attack — their  effort  so  desperate,  so  fiendish, 
so  heroic.  Other  parts  of  the  field  are  recommencing 
the  struggle;  but  on  this  especial  ground  both  athletes 


OH,    WHERE    IS    MAC  ?  '  305 

are  thoroughly  exhausted  and  disposed  to  "spar  for  wind." 

Still  no  help  for  Will.  Mark  must  have  been  killed, 
or  wounded,  or  taken. 

Ha!  There  opens  a  new  battery  from  our  own  lines,  on 
the  right,  and  not  far  from  this  very  point!  He  hears 
the  flying  missiles,  and  they  come  from  our  side.  Six — 
twelve  guns  that  seems  to  be.  Another  battery!  On  the 
left  this  time;  yet  nearer  to  the  place  where  the  Sixth 
and  its  Michigan  friends  were  halted  when  he  left  them. 
Beaten?  Why  we  have  only  just  begun  the  fight!  Who 
says  the  Union  army  is  whipped  or  ever  can  be  whipped? 
What  difference  does  it  make  that  Mac  is  dead  and  that 
Will  himself    is    going    to  die?      Hurrah  for  the  Union! 

"Oh,  dear!  Is  this  fever?  Delirium?  Well,  it  is  not 
painful,  so  far.  I  can  die  so,,  if  need  be.  Let  me  lie  flat 
down  on  the  log  and  think  it  over." 

His  "thinking"  does  not  amount  to  much.  Of  course 
you  can't  sell  dry  goods  when  nobody  wants  any  dry 
goods,  nor  pay  debts  when  you've  nothing  to  pay  with. 
The  idea  is  absurd.  As  poor  Clinton  Thrush  said,  give 
a  man  all  the  appellations  in  the  world  and  take  away 
his  consignments,  and  what' 11  he  offer  next?  Ha,  ha, 
ha!  Plain  as  the  nose  on  a  man's  face.  Extremely  an- 
noying, though,  this  everlasting  bringing  up  something, 
and  turning  away  from  it  when  it  is  just  getting  settled. 

Sleep,  or  some  kind  of  lethargy  that  takes  the  place  of 
it,  comes  on  and  lasts — no  one  knows  just  how  long. 


"Front  rank  halt!  Rear  rank  forwa-ard!"  What  is  all 
this?  Thirst,  dizzy  headache,  and  skirmish  drill  going 
on  all  at  once! 

Thirst  is  the  most  pressing  consciousness.  Instinct- 
ively he  grasps  Mark's  canteen  and  drinks,  as  it  seems, 
20 


3o6  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

for  hours — or  ages — at  any  rate  all  through  the  interval 
between  unconsciousness  and  consciousness. 

"Hello,  Captain!     How  did  you  come  here?" 

Fargeon  stares,  bewildered,  at  the  speaker — a  spruce 
young  lieutenant,  a  stranger  to  him  and  a  Union  soldier. 

"Who  are  you  sir,  and  where  do  you  belong?" 

"Pennsylvania,  when  I'm  at  home." 

"Is  this  Pennsylvania?" 

"No,  Captain;    but  this  is  a    Pennsylvania  regiment." 

"Why — I  didn't  know  Grant  had  any," 

"He  didn't.  We're  fighting  just  now  under  Gen.  D. 
C.   Buel." 

"Buel?  Has  Buel  come  up?  Oh,  thank  God!  "  And 
Will  burst  into  tears  which  clear  his  clouded  brain 
enough  to  let  him  see  that  the  battle  was  saved,  and  the 
army  too,  and  he  himself — all  saved. 

After  the  skirmishers  have  passed,  the  brigade  goes  by, 
fresh,  steady,  determined.  And  after  the  brigade,  what? 
A  squad  of  Company  K,  shouting  and  welcoming  him, 
with  friends  to  lift  him  and  a  litter  to  carry  him.  And 
Mark! — Mark,  with  a  blood-stained  cloth  covering  all  his 
face  below  his  streaming  eyes,  having  only  a  hole  cut 
for  his  mouth. 

"Oh,  Caftain  dayr!  I've  eat  me  harrt  out  since  day- 
break, soa  I  have!  The  d —  Michigan  b3'es  wouldn't  let 
me  in — ye  niver  gave  me  the  countersign — an'  then 
divvle  the  wan  av  me  wud  they  let  out  for  love  nor 
money  till  they'd  come  out  thimsilves,  bad  cess  to   'em!" 

They  lift  Will — now  quite  fever-stricken — gently  to 
the  litter. 

"Now,  Sarg'nt,  give  yer  orders." 

"Well,  min;  there's  foive  av  yiz.  Half  of  yiz  go  to 
the  head  and   the  other  half  to   the  fayt.     I've   a  little 


OH,    WHERE    IS    MAC  ?  307 

business  av  me  oan  wid  me  butternut  friend  layin'  there 
beyant,  but  I'll  be  wid  ye  shorrtly. " 

When  he  overtook  them  he  laid  on  the  litter  beside 
Will  a  sword,  two  pocket-books,  and  a  body  belt  doubt- 
less containing  money.  He  also  had  two  Union  jackets 
to  put  under  Will's  head,  and  a  blue  overcoat  to  throw 
over  his  feet  to  keep  off  sun  and  flies. 

"The  dom  corpse-robber' 11  niver  fay  his  way  out  av 
furgatory  wid  graynbacks.      He'll  not;  nca,  he'll  not." 

The  things  he  laid  on  the  litter  were  not  quite  all  he 
found.  Hidden  in  his  pocket  were  a  gold  watch  and  a 
little,  worn,  crumbled  thread-and-needle-case,  with  "When 
this  you  see,  remember"  dimly  legible  on  the    outside. 

"Hello,  Mac!  Shake!  Glad  to  see  you,  old  boy!  I'll 
tell  you  why — myarmiscold  and  my  foot's  asleep  and  —  " 
he  whispers  mysteriously  some  unintelligible  gibberish — 
"but  they  won't  let  me!  But  now  you're  here  it's  all 
right.  You  always  make  everything  all  right;  don't  you, 
Mac?     Don't  you?     Of  course  j-ou  do.     Ha,  ha,  ha!  " 

Who  is  it  he  is  talking  to  and  trying  to  embrace? 
Poor,  bandaged,  bloody,  blindly  blubbering  Mark 
Loone}^ 

"Ochone,  ocho-one!  Vad  luck  to  the  day  I  was  vorn, 
and  vlack  was  the  light  av  it." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


NOW    FOR    A    CORK    LEG. 


LOOK  for  a  relief  from  delirium  some- 
time to-day;  then  all  will  be  well  if 
ever.  And  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  we 
think  ourselves  very  lucky  to  be  able 
to  save  the  knee  for  a  stump.  With 
a  knee-stump  you'll  hardly  know  he 
has  an  artificial  leg.  Many  will  never 
know  it  at  all." 

That  surely  sounds  like  Doctor  Straf- 
ford's voice. 
"Thank  God  for  all  His  infinite  mercies!" 
And  that  like  Mr.  Penrose's.  What  does  it  mean? 
What  is  this  continuous  rhythmical  sound  and  motion? 
Why  does  every  wave  of  that  ceaseless  fan  seem  to  bring 
a  breath  of  faint  perfume  that  reminds  Will  of  Sally 
Penrose?  Has  he  been  asleep?  Can  he  open  his  eyes? 
Yes;  he  opens  them.  That  looks  like  the  skylight  of  a 
steamboat's  cabin.  Can  he  turn  his  head?  Yes — but  it 
must  be  all  a  dream;  for  it  seems  as  if  that  angel-face 
with  the  fathomless  eyes  were  the  face  of  Sara — his  love 
of  long,  long  ago,  in  some  former,  half-forgotten  life. 
The  eyes  meet  his  as  if  not  expecting  recognition,  and 
he  looks  at  them,  contented  and  restful  until  explanation 
shall  come  of  itself. 

"Father!     Oh,  dear  father!" 
That  is  Sara's  voice  surely. 

308 


NOW    FOR   A    CORK    LEG.  309 

"The  change  has  come;  I  can  see  it!  I  believe  he 
knows  me!" 

"Why,  Sally,  how  could  I  help  knowing  j'^//.?" 

Who  spoke?  That  surely  is  not  his  voice — so  thin, 
so  feeble  and  unsteady! 

Yes,  that  is  his  love's  face  laid  against  his.  It  is  her 
arm  which  encircles  his  neck,  and  her  shoulder  on  which 
his  hand  rests,  while  her  tones  whisper  words  of  love  and 
gladness  in  his  ear. 

After  a  delicious  minute  his  hand  is  taken  in  a  clasp, 
strong,  tender,  and  reassuring,  and  Will  meets  the  smil- 
ing face  of  his  dear  old  friend  and  companion.  Doctor 
Strafford — meets  it  with  an  answering  smile. 

Again  Mr.  Penrose's  voice  is  raised  in  a  prayer  of 
thanks  to  Heaven;  and  then  follows  a  long,  restful  silence. 

"Now  tell  me  all  the  news." 

"May  we.   Doctor?" 

"Yes;    if  he'll  promise  not  to  ask  questions." 

Will  nodded  assent. 

"Well,  Major  Fargeon!  "  (Sally  pauses,  while  his  eyes 
ask  the  question  he  had  promised  not  to  utter)  "because 
you  know  you  were  brevetted  for  gallantry  at  Donelson. 
I'm  sure  you  ought  to  be  brevetted  commander-in-chief 
for  Shiloh!  Now,  Major  Fargeon,  you  have  been  talk- 
ing very  foolishly  for  a  good  many  days;  so  we  had  to 
bring  you  to  the  hospital  boat  St.  Luke;  and  here  we 
are,  just  started /c*/-  hovie,  Major,  if  you  have  no  objec- 
tion." 

"Home,"  murmurs  Will.      "Home.     Home.     Home." 

"Now,  father,  it  is  your  turn,"  says  Sally's  sweet 
voice. 

"Major  Fargeon,  Bue.  s  army  came  up  and  the  battle 
was  won,  after  the  first  day's  disasters;  and  the  rebels 
were  driven  back  with  immense  loss." 


3IO  THE   CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

Will  closes  his  eyes  and  holds  up  his  hand  for  silence 

while  he  lets  this  great  thought  fill  his  soul.     Then  with 

a  sigh  and  a  smile  he  opens  them  and  waits    for    more. 

"Now,  Doctor  Strafford, "  says  Sally,  "what  have  you  to 

say?" 

"Chicken-broth." 

They  laugh  at  this  terse  announcement  of  an  important 
bit  of  intelligence;  Will  nodding  assent  to  the  sugges- 
tion it  conveys.  While  Strafford  is  gone  to  order  the 
broth,  Sally  resumes  the  thread  of  news. 

"Father  and  Doctor  Strafford  and  Lydia  and  I  hurried 
down  when  we  heard  of  your  wound." 

Here  she  grows  uneasy  and  looks  at  her  father,  who  in 
turn  involuntarily  glances  toward    the   foot   of   the    bed. 

"Oh,  I  know  my  foot  is  gone,"  whispers  Will  with  a 
smile. 

"But, "  interposes  Mr.  Penrose,  "by  the  mercy  of  Heav- 
en, with  a  knee-stump  you  will  hardly  know  you  have  an 
artificial  leg — many  never  know  it  at  all."  [The  minister 
had  slightly  misunderstood  the  doctor.] 

Will  nods  indifferently,  and  Strafford  returns,  announc- 
ing that  the  broth  will  come  directly.  It  is  now  his  turn 
to  speak.      Will  interrupts  him  to  say: 

"1  know  about  my  amputation  and  the  knee-stump." 

"Well,  then,  as  Mark  says,  'the  nixt  thing  is  some- 
thin'  else.'  I  have  taken  Mark's  case  in  hand — the 
worst-looking  lip  you  ever  saw  in  your  life." 

Will  nods. 

"And  I  am  going  to  make  it  a  better  lip  than  it  ever 
was  before  since  he  was  born — or  before." 

Will  opens  his  eyes  very  wide. 

"Yes,  Major,  I  have  taken  advantage  of  that  laceration 
to  perform  one  of  the  loveliest  operations  of  metaplastic 
art.     That  lip,  when  it  heals  up,  will   be  a  model  from 


NOW    FOR    A    CORK    LEG.  311 

which  a  sculptor  might  sculp  St.  Cecelia  playing  on  a 
Jew's-harp!  Don't  laugh!  I  mean  it — and,  besides,  here 
comes  the  broth.  Here,  let  me  arrange  you — there, 
Mark  is  to  be  the  broth  of  a  boy;  and  now  you  are  to  be 
a  boy  of  the  broth." 

"Only  one  teaspoonful,"  whispers  Will.  But  after  one 
follows  another,  and  then  another,  until  the  bowl  isempty. 

"Now  some  water,"  he  says  (not  whispers).  "Aha — 
that's  good!"  And  as  he  lies  back  there  is  a  tinge  of 
color  in  lip  and  cheek. 

"Now,"  says  the  doctor,  and  he  says  no  more,  but  lays 
his  finger  significantly  on  his  lip  and  looks  in  turn  at  each 
of  the  others;  last  at  Fargeon,  closing  his  eyes  to  inti- 
mate what  he  wished  the  patient  to  do.  With  child-like 
docility  Will  obeys,  and  is  quickly  in  the  land  of  dreams 
and  soon  afterward  even  beyond  that  land,  in  the  qui- 
eter region  of  space  where  the  ether  is  too  rarefied  for 
dreams  themselves  to  subsist  on. 


When  Fargeon  awoke  again  to  the  rhythmic  motion 
and  the  ceaseless  fan,  Sara  and  her  father  were  still  be- 
side him;  Doctor  Strafford  away  attending  to  other 
sufferers.  They  gave  him  hard- tack  soaked  in  sugar-water, 
very  refreshing  to  his  fever-laden  mouth,  the  dreadful 
breath  whereof  Sara  had  learned  to  know  so  well. 

"Now  some  more  news,  please." 

"Well,  Major,"  said  the  minister,  "through  God's 
mercy  Lieut. -Colonel  Isaacs  is  rapidly  recovering  from  his 
wound,  and  Major  Colemason  has  resigned— or,  rather, 
gone  back  to  his  captaincy,  which  he  feels  he  never 
should  have  quitted." 

Will  smiled  at  these  evidences  of  the  mercy  of  Heaven, 
and  Sally  took  up  the  thread  of  narrative. 

"Poor  Captain  Chafferty  was  killed.     Mark  brought  off  a 


312  THE   CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

sword  and  other  things  we  took  to  be  his,  on  the  same 
litter  with  you." 

"Poor  Chaff!" 

"And  when  Isaacs  gets  to  be  colonel,  the  other  captain 
who  ranks  you  will  be  lieutenant-colonel,  and  you  will  be 
a  full-fledged  major,  instead  of  only  one  by  brevet!  Am  I 
not  a  wise  woman  on  military  matters?" 

Will  nodded,  but  gave  her  no  answering  smile.  He 
looked  from  one  to  the  other  with  pleading  eyes  that 
seemed  to  say,  "Is  that  all — all?"  Silence  reigned. 
Then  his  bosom  heaved  with  a  great  sob,  and  tears  ran 
from  both  his  eyes,  down  his  cheeks  and  on  to  the  pillow, 
before  Sally's  handkerchief  could  catch  them. 

"Don't  cry,  dear!     Don't!     It  might  be  bad  for  you." 

"I  am  crying  for  what  you  don't  dare  to  tell  me." 

"We  have  nothing,  dear— nothing  positive.  But  we 
still  have  some  hope — or  at  least  /have." 

"Tell  me  all — everything!  " 

"You  know  you  promised  not  to  ask  questions,"  inter- 
posed Mr.  Penrose. 

"I  am  not  asking  questions;  I  am  commanding  you  to 
give  me  full  accounts  concerning  my — command."  The 
sick  captain  spoke  with  all  the  petulance  of  weakness 
— too  feeble  even  to  correct  the  absurd  phraseology. 
Again  silence,  troubled  silence,  reigned. 

"Forgive  me,  dear!  "  the  quavering  voice  resumed. 
Then,  when  her  face  was  laid  by  his,  he  whispered:  "You 
may  better  do  as  I  ask.  I  cannot  live  so — and  I  may  if 
I  know  all."  She  still  hesitated,  and  still  he  pleaded 
with  her,  sobbing  in  a  weak  manner  that  alarmed  them 
beyond  words. 

"If  this  request  is  denied — I  feel  a  little  as  if  I  might 
— never  make  you  another — another  sane  one."  Then 
they  dared  no    longer  refuse    or  delay.     They    told    him 


NOW    FOR   A    CORK    LEG.  313 

that  the  latest  accounts  they  had  of  Lieutenant  McClin- 
tock  were  when  the  men  accompanying  the  litter  were 
assailed  by  a  terrible  flank  fire  from  the  left  (their 
right  as  they  retreated).  They  turned  from  it,  but  could 
not  get  clear  of  it.  The  wounded  man  was  breathing 
when  they  started,  but  after  that  they  did  not  all  ex- 
amine him.  There  were  conflicting  accounts  as  to  who 
were  with  him  last — two  men  asserting  that  the  third 
had  disappeared  long  before  they  were  driven  from  their 
charge,  and  the  third  asserting  that  the  others  had  left 
him  alone  with  the  litter.  This  made  a  preponderance 
of  testimony  in  favor  of  the  first-named  story.  But  the 
third  man  was  a  member  of  Company  K  itself,  which 
the  others  were  not. 

"Was  the  soldier  a  private  named  Dugong?" 

"The  very  same!  How  did  you  know?"  said  Mr.  Pen- 
rose with  effusion.  "Yes,  it  was  Mr.  Dugong.  He  seems 
an  admirable  man — faithful  to  the  last  in  caring  for  his 
lieutenant,  even  when  deserted  by  the  others.  I  could 
not  forbear  giving  him  my  personal  assurance  that  5'ou 
would  not  forget  his  services — alone,  surrounded  by  foes, 
and  cutting  his  way  out  only  after  all  hope  was  gone  of 
being  of  further  use  to  poor  Mr.  McClintock.  I  vent- 
ured to  hold  out  hopes  of  a  sergeantcy,  if  not  even  a 
lieutenancy." 

"Dugong!  Curse  his  soul!  The  hound!  I'll  settle 
him  yet!  " 

Sara  sprang  forward  and  placed  her  hand  on  Will's 
forehead. 

"Father!  Run  for  Doctor  Strafford  !  Tell  him  to  come 
at  once — at  oncer 

"No,  no,  my  beloved.  No,  Sally,  dear,  I  am  not  going 
to  the  bad  again.  Mr.  Penrose,  don't  call  the  doctor — 
Pm  perfectly  calm,  and  Pll  tell  you  all  about  it." 


SH 


THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 


"Not  now,  dear;  please,  to  oblige  me,  not  now!  You 
frighten  me  so!  " 

"Oh,  well,"  he  laughed;  "just  as  you  like.  Only — " 
She  laid  her  dear  hand  on  his  lips,  and  he  kissed  the 
slender,  pink  finger-tips  and  was  silent.  After  a  little 
space  he  mumbled  through  the  light  obstruction: 

"If  I  could  speak,  I  should  ask  for  more  broth;  but  as 
I  cannot,  I  will  starve  to  death  without  a  murmur." 

"Oh,  yes;  you  may  speak  to  that  extent.  Father,  please 
order  some,  if  Doctor  Strafford  approves." 

"With  some  boiled  rice  in  it!"  called  WilL 

So,  for  a  few  minutes  the  lovers  are  left  alone  to- 
gether— minutes  v/hereon  even  we,  the  unseen  audience, 
will  not  intrude.  We  will  walk,  with  Mr.  Penrose,  the 
length  of  the  great  steamer,  between  those  interminable 
rows  of  beds,  each  holding  a  suffering  hero's  mangled 
form — Union  or  rebel,  for  all  are  treated  alike.  Over 
most  of  them  hovers  Hope;  over  some  broods  Despair. 
Around  some  are  stretched  screens  that  hide  from  view 
the  final  throes,  or  the  pitiful,  quiet  form  which  has  just 
passed  through  them,  and  is  awaiting  the  night  for  re- 
moval to  the  open  forward  deck,  where  boxes  are  piled 
ready. 

The  St.  Luke  moves  majestically  down  the  broad  river, 
her  ponderous  high-pressure  engines  breathing  alter- 
nately; she,  like  a  great  whale,  spouting  vapor  high  in  air, 
first  through  one  blow-hole,  then  through  the  opposite — 
a  planet,  swinging  through  the  realms  of  space,  freighted 
with  life  and  death,  hope  and  fear,  pain  and  pleasure, 
joy  and  sorrow,  love  and — but  no;  no  hatred,  unless  it  is 
thrown  at  her  from  the  dark,  unfriendly  banks.  The  first 
blood  that  flows  from  a  man  seems  to  carry  off  all  bitter- 
ness of  heart,  like  a  scum  of  bile  on  its  surface. 

Now  we  will  thread  our  way  back    toward    Fargeon's 


NOW    FOR    A    CORK    LEG.  315 

bedside,  with  Mr.  Penrose,  Doctor  Strafford,  and  the  broth. 

"You  see,  Doctor,  what  frightened  us  was  his  bursting 
out  in  violent — I  may  almost  say  profane — words  against 
one  of  his  own  soldiers;  a  man  who,  if  I  am  correctly 
informed  (and  I  have  it  from  his  own  lips)  risked  his  life 
in  a  heroic  effort  to  bring  away  Lieutenant  McClintock 
— or  his  remains;  for  he  says  the  lieutenant  had  died 
before  he  was  forced  to  leave  him." 

"That  violence  is  very  strange — and  very  serious  in- 
deed, unless  there  is  something  back  which  we  do  not 
yet  know." 

"I  presume  you  approve  our  course — checking  the 
vagary  at  once?" 

"Yes,  yes — I  dare  say.  Though  I  may  decide  to  un- 
Avire  the  cork  and  let  the  gas  effervesce,  and  so  relieve 
the  pressure.  Tell  you  better  when  I  feel  his  pulse  and 
look  at  his  eyes." 

They  arrive. 

"Well,  Major — here  comes  your  commissary  train  with 
rations.     How  do  you  feel,  old  boy?" 

"Just — delightfully!     There's  no  other  word  for  it!" 

"Pulse— all  right!  Eyes — couldn't  be  better!  Never 
mind  your  tongue;  save  that  to  hold,  when  you  ought 
not  to  talk,  and  to  eat  broth  and  rice  with." 

"Oh,  dear!  Is  that  all  you  brought?  What  is  that 
little  dab,  among  one?" 

"Oh,  that's  more  than  you  think  for.  As  mj'  mother 
used  to  say  when  I  took  more  than  I  could  eat,  your  eyes 
are  bigger  than  your  stomach." 


"Now  let's  see,  said  the  blind  man.  Where  did  we 
drop  the  thread?  But,  Major,  don't  scare  me  as  you  did 
Mr.   and  Miss  Penrose." 

"Never  fear.  Doctor.     Ycu    don't  scare    easily.     They 


3l6  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

were  trying  to  tell  me  the  last  news — no,  I'll  not  say 
that — the  latest  news  from  my  own  glorious  Mac!  my 
beloved  Mac!  my  own  brother-in-arms  Mac — my  more 
than  brother!" 

"Well,  Major,  let  the  dominie  get  clear  through  his 
tale;  then  you  may  fire  off  your  mouth  and  free  your 
mind." 

"All  right!  Sally  dear,  lay  your  pretty  hand  close  by, 
and  clap  it  on  my  lips  if  I  so  much  as  open  them  to 
breathe. " 

"Well,"  began  the  dominie,  "the  two  litter-bearers 
report  that  they  vvere  making  good  time  to  the  rear — 
glad  enough  to  have  a  stout  soldier  to  help  carry  the 
heavy  end.  The  first  thing  that  disturbed  them  was 
that  Union  troops — not  Sixth  Illinois  men — began  to  pass 
on  their  right  in  a  steady  stream,  as  fast  as  the)'  could 
go — much  faster  than  the  litter  could  travel.  After 
a  while  the  stream  grew  less;  the  fugitives  seemed  to 
have  all  got  by,  and  rebel  bullets  began  to  come  from 
their  right  hand  as  well  as  behind  them. 

"So  far  their  report  agrees  with  that  of  Private  Du- 
gong,  who  was  the  soldier  who  had  so  kindly  volunteered 
to  help  them." 

"Oh! — "  began  Will;  whereupon  his  remark  was  sum- 
marily extinguished,  as  a  candle  under  a  pair  of  snuffers, 
only  the  extinguisher  was  in  the  shape  of  four  most  kiss- 
able  fingers. 

"Now  hear  what  Private  Dugong  reports,  and  with 
what  seems  to  me  the  most  absolute  and  soldierly  good 
faith.  He  says  that  when  the  rebel  bullets  began  to  fly 
the  other  men  incontinently  set  down  the  litter  and  fled, 
paying  no  heed  to  his  urgent  appeals  to  persevere.  He 
even  repeats  the  very  words  he  made  use  of.  Said  he: 
'Fellow-comrades'  (that  was  his  expression),  'Lieutenant 


NOW    FOR   A    CORK    LEG.  317 

McClintock  is  acknowledged  to  be,  by  all  odds,  the  best 
and  bravest  officer  in  our  army.  Consider  what  a  loss  he 
will  be  to  our  great  cause!  Why,  my  captain,  Cap  Far- 
geon,  would  rather  give  a  hundred  dollars  out  of  his  own 
pocket  than  have  Lieutenant  McClintock  fall  into  the 
enemy's  hands.  Let  us  try  once  more.  If  at  first  you  don't 
succeed,  try,  try  again.  As  for  me,  fellow-comrades, 
5^ou  may  do  as  you  please,  but  I  will  never,  never  desert 
my  superior  officer.'  Those  were  his  very  words,  as  far 
as  I  can  remember  them;  though  there  were  more  to  the 
same  general  purpose. 

"But  to  resume.  His  appeal  was  unavailing.  They 
did  not  even  pause  to  listen  to  him,  but  fled  in  the  most 
dastardly  manner.  Then  the  brave  soldier  went  to  the 
side  of  the  lieutenant,  resolved,  as  he  had  said,  to  die  with 
him  if  it  should  be  God's  will.  But  alas,  Lieutenant  Mc- 
Clintock was  no  more!  Bear  up  bravely,  my  dear  Cap- 
tain Fargeon,  praying  Heaven  for  aid — his  heart  had 
ceased  to  beat." 

The  good  dominie  put  his  hand  to  his  eyes  and  was 
silent. 

"Oh! — "  began  Will,  fruitlessly  as  before. 

"Now,  Willie,"  said  Sally,  "I'll  tell  you  what  the 
two  others  say.  They  say  that  as  soon  as  the  bullets  be- 
gan to  come  from  their  right-hand  side  the  volunteer 
dropped  the  litter  handle  and  ran  like  a  dog  directly 
away  from  the  firing.  In  vain  they  shouted;  he  only 
ducked  his  head  and  ran  the  harder.  Well,  they  too 
swerved  toward  their  left,  and  kept  going — only  stopping 
to  change  ends — kept  going  as  long  as  they  could  stand 
it,  and  then  gave  up  and  ran  toward  our  lines,  but  never 
caught  sight  of  Dugong  again  until  the  next  day." 

Will  took  Sally's  hand  quietly  in  his  own  to  intimate 
that  it  was  now  his  turn. 


3X8  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

"Caleb  Dugong  is  a  coward  and  a  damnable  liar.  If  he 
says  Mac  is  alive,  he  is  dead.  If  he  says  he  is  dead,  he 
is  alive." 

Then  he  told  them  of  the  incident  when  he  last  sav/ 
Dugong;  v/hen  the  skulker  made  Mac's  being  carried  off 
an  excuse  for  leaving  the  field,  refusing  to  return  even 
Virhen  commanded  by  name  to  do  so. 

"Now,  this  is  the  third  time  the  hell-hound  has 
skulked,  to  my  knowledge  and  under  my  very  eyes!  If 
ever  I  get  well  and  find  him  in  Company  K,  I'll  have  him 
court-martialed;  and  if  the  court  is  afraid  to  have  him 
shot,  by  all  that's  good  and  holy,  I'll — " 

Again  the  gentle  hand  checked  the  ungentle  words,  so 
strange  fromx  those  humane,  charitable,  gentlemanly  lips. 

Contracted  brow  and  sad,  anxious  eyes,  and  the 
absence  of  any  demand  for  more  news  of  the  man}' things 
left  untold,  made  the  loving  watchers  uneasy,  and  Straf- 
ford cast  about  for  something  with  which  to  effect  a 
diversion, 

"Major,  a  friend  of  yours  is  waiting  impatiently  to  see 
you,  though  for  reasons  beyond  his  own  control  he  will 
not  have  much  to  say  for  himself." 

An  inquiring  look  came  over  the  major's  face. 

"Mark  Looney  is  on  board." 

"Dear  old  Mark!     Bring  him  on.  Doctor." 

Mark  arrived,  the  whole  lower  part  of  his  face  covered 
with  one  great  bandage,  only  pierced  at  each  corner  of 
the  mouth  with  apertures  large  enough  to  receive  a  tube. 

"My  only  hesitancy  about  bringing  Mark  to  see  you  is 
the  fear  that  he  may  try  to  smile  when  he  sees  you  so 
much  better;  for  I  have  told  him  if  he  cracks  a  smile 
and  disturbs  those  stitches,  he  is  to  be  shot  at  sunrise!" 

Mark's  eyes  smiled  when  he  grasped  Fargeon's  hand, 
whether  his  concealed  lips  did  or  not. 


NOW   FOR   A    CORK    LEG.  319 

"Now  Mark  has  suffered  a  hundred  times  more  pain 
than  you  have." 

Mark  shook  his  head,  and  Will  could  almost  hear  him 
say:  "Sorra  the  taste  of  a  fain  I  moinded  at-all-at-all. 
No,   sorr,  I  did  not;   oah,  I  did  not." 

"Well,  he  might  well  have  done  that.  I  haven't  felt 
a  pang  to  speak  of,  from  first  to  last — bodily." 

"Mark  never  whimpered  when  I  put  in  the  stitches — 
though  I  confess  it  hurt  vie  to  put  them  where  they  are! 
And  I  know  that  for  two  days  and  nights  afterward  he 
never  slept!" 

Mark  tossed  his  head  as  if  to  say:  "That's  soa — but 
fvvhat  av  it?" 

"And  since  that  he  has  refused  to  lie  abed — insisted 
on  acting  as  assistant  about  the  boat,  and  the  most 
valuable  and  efficient  hospital  hand  I  ever  saw,  speech- 
less as  he  is." 

Another  deprecatory  nod. 

"Now,  by  the  day  after  to-morrow  I  am  going  to  let 
up  on  him — take  off  the  plaster  bands — and  then,  if  all 
goes  well,  as  I  believe  it  will,  he'll  be  well  and  able  to 
look  any  man  in  the  eye — or  woman  either." 

Mark  passed  his  bands  across  his  eyes  with  a  gesture 
that  seemed  to  brush  away  a  life-long  trouble;  and  soon 
departed  to  go  on  with  his  manifold  merciful  avocations. 

"Now,  where' s  Lydia?     You  said  she  came  with  5'ou. " 

"Yes;  but  she  is  not  going  back  with  us.  I  don't  know 
that  any  one  has  told  you,  Willie,  that  a  very  senti- 
mental feeling  has  grown  out  of  the  correspondence  which 
has  been  going  on  between  Lydia  and  Mr.  McClintock. " 

"No!  Do  you  mean  so?  That  close-mouthed  fellow 
never  breathed  aword  of  it.     But  Lydia  is  a  mere  child!  " 

"Not  so  much  of  a  child.  She  had  aged  wonderfully 
since  her  visit  to  Donelson;  and  he  has  always    been  her 


320  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

hero  since  she  first  heard  of  him,  before  the  regiment 
left  Chicago.  Every  word  you  said  or  wrote  about  him 
she  seized  upon  as  if  it  had  been  the  breath  of  life." 

"And  now  she  is  waiting  to  learn  his  fate?  Bless  her 
dear  heart!      But  who  is  with  her?" 

"Mr.   and  Mrs.  Prouder." 

"What?     The  old  man  himself?" 

"Yes;  they  left  their  two  little  boys  at  our  house  and 
we  all  came  down  together,  and  between  them  all  no 
effort  will  be  spared  to  relieve  our  suspense." 

"Yes,  indeed!  If  old  Zury  is  to  the  fore,  money  and 
shrewdness  will  never  be  lacking.  I  am  very  glad — very 
glad  in  the  money  matter,  for  as  soon  as  I  have  time  to 
think  about  things  worldly,  I  shall  begin  to  be  anxious 
regarding  the  expenses  your  father  must  have  incurred." 

"Oh,  Will,  you  need  not  worry  about  money." 

"But  I  must,  love;  not  at  this  moment,  perhaps,  but — " 

"Never  again." 

"Oh,  you  dear,  simple  sweetheart!  Are  we  now  about 
to  live  forever  upon  your  hundreds  of  dollars  saved  up?" 

"Not  on  them,  but  on  other  hundreds — and  thousands." 

"Why,  have  you  found  a  pot  of  money?  I  don't  re- 
member any  rich  uncle  of  yours  on  either  side  who  can 
have  died  and  left  you  a  large  fortune  in  silver  and  gold." 

"Well,  dear,  don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about  it  now. 
Next  week,  when  we  are  safe  at  home,  if  you  go  on  get- 
ting well,  I  will  set  your  mind  quite  at  rest  as  to  money. " 

A  long,  wholesome  silence  follows,  during  which  there 
comes  a  stoppage  of  the  boat's  engines.  They  are  mak- 
ing the  landing  at  Savannah,  to  take  on  more  wounded 
men  and  put  ashore  one  who  has  already  died  under  the 
surgeon's  knife.  The  halt  wearies  the  sufferers,  for  they 
reckoned  their  journey,  not  by  its  progress,  but  by  its  in- 
terruptions.    At  length    all    is  ready,  and    the  St.  Luke 


NOW    FOR    A    CORK    LEG.  321 

once  more  rounds  out  Into  the  stream.  As  she  does  so  a 
band  stationed  on  shore  to  speed  the  parting  wayfarers, 
softly  begins  playing  "Home,   Sweet  Home." 

How  many  eyes  fill  with  tears!  Or,  rather,  how  few 
of  the  listeners  can  restrain  this  evidence  of  weakness! 
On  Will  Fargeon's  memor3'one  more  old  melody  is  newly 
impressed  in  such  tones  that  he  can  never  afterward 
hear  it  without  overpowering  emotion. 


"Will,  dear?" 

"Well,  love." 

"Achilles!      It  was  in  your  heel  after  all!  " 

"Yes,  Sally.  Your  fun  was  prophetic.  Aren't  you 
glad  you  didn't  call  me  Hector?" 

"Oh  well — wait  until  I  get  you  in  my  power!  Per- 
haps both  names  will  fit!"  _  *' 

And  so  they  tried  to  forget  their  trials  and  their  griefs 
in  a  comfortable  present  and  serene  future.  But  time 
and  life  were  toning  down  both  hopes  and  fears — happily. 

21 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    WAR. 

HE  transfer  from  boat  to  cars  at  Cairo, 
and  the  long,  hot  ride  thence  to  Chicago 
were  very  tryiny;  and  a  tired,  weak  and  doc- 
ile invalid  it  was  who  at  last  sank  to  much- 
needed  rest  at  the  cool,  heavenly-quiet 
parsonage.  Strafford  had  remained  behind; 
the  medical  staff  declaring  that  he  could 
not  be  spared,  and  insisting  on  his  taking 
a  surgeon's  appointment,  even  if  only  tem- 
porarily. So  Fargeon's  "stump"  was  put  in 
the  care  of  Doctor  Brainard;  and  Mark,  with 
sixty  day's  furlough,  was  his  able  nurse  and 
devoted  slave.  Poor  Mark  would  have  been  glad  to  give 
an  arm  or  a  leg,  or  even  life  itself,  for  his  beloved  cap- 
tain. Nay,  he  would  almost  have  done  more — foregone 
the  benefit  of  Strafford's  surgical  operation  on  his  old 
blemish!  This,  by  the  way,  had  provided  him  with  a 
countenance  reasonably  like  those  of  other  men — if  one 
be  not  too  critical,  and  Mark  was  not.      As  he  said: 

"The  docther  putt  a  mug  onto   me  noa    man   nayd    be 
ashamed  av.      He  did;   oah,  he  did," 


"Thank  you,  Mark!     Oh,  this  lounge  is  Heaven  itself! 
You  are  as  strong  as  a  horse,  Mark." 

"Fehth,  sorr— Mehjor;  ye' re  not  soa   hefty   as  5'e  wor 

322 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    WAR.  323 

fwhin  I  carr'd  ye  into  the  broosh-pile.     Ye' re  not;  noa, 
ye're  not — worrse  luck!" 

"And,  Mark,  you  will  come  back  about  dark  and  help 
me  to  bed  again?" 

"I  will  sorr — Mehjor;   oah,  I  will."      [Exit.] 

"Now,  Sally,  dear,  I  must  see  Mr.  Thorburn  and  ar- 
range to  have  my  pay  account  transferred  up  here  and 
turned  over  to  your  father  to  help  along.  I  wonder  Uncle 
Colin  hasn't  called  before  now." 

"He  is — not  in  town,  Willie.  And  as  to  mone}',  I 
tell  you  we  are  all  fully  supplied,  but  I  am  not  ready  to 
tell  3'ou  how,  just  yet." 

"Oh,  you  mysterious  financier!  So  deep  and  artful! 
Do  you  happen  to  know  how  Me3"er  Moss-Rosen  gets  on 
with  my  old  debts?" 

"Oh,  everything  has,  as  the  newspapers  say,  'gone 
kiting,'  and  the  last  time  I  saw  Uncle  Colin  he  told  me 
the  debts  were  all  paid,  but  he  added  almost  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  that  he  had  ruined  5'ou  by  making  that  ar- 
rangement we  liked  so  much,  turning  over  your  store  to 
Moss-Rosen  on  condition  he  should  pay  the  debts." 

"Dear  old  Thorburn!  Well,  I  have  known  for  some 
time  that  Meyer  got  the  best  of  that  bargain,  as  things 
have  turned  out — inflation  and  all." 

"Yes;  Mr,  Thorburn  said  that  you  had  lost,  and  Moss- 
Rosen  was  going  to  make  $100,000  by  the  bargain,  and 
that  he,  Uncle  Colin,  would  never  forgive  himself  until 
he  had  atoned  to  you  for  his  blunder,  as  he  called  it. 

"Oh,  pshaw!  He  needn't  trouble  himself.  He  only 
helped  me  do  what  I  had  resolved  to  do  if  I  could — tried 
to,  and  couldn't  without  his  help." 

Sally  was  silent. 

"Now  I  must  relieve  his  kind  old  heart.  When  will 
he  return?" 


324  THE   CAPTAIN   OF    COMPANY   K. 

"I — don't  know." 

"When  did  you  see  him  last?" 

"Just  after  Donelson.  He  brought  the  news  of  3'our 
glorious  doings.  He  cried  and  laughed  together — we  all 
did;  he  walking  the  floor  and  talking  constantly  about 
you — his  own  'braw  lad' — loaded  upon  a  litter  to  be  car- 
ried to  his  death  for  his  land's  sake — the  morning  break- 
ing— our  boys  saying  good-bye — their  guns  loaded  and 
their  bayonets  fixed — they  looking  out  over  their  stony 
death-bed — the  healthy  cowards  all  left  behind,  and  his 
own  'braw  lameter'  limping  along  so  he  mightn't  be 
left  alive  when  his  brave  lads  should  be  dead  and  dy- 
ing— and  then  the  Heaven-sent  white  flag — when  became 
to  that  his  spectacles  fell  off  and  we  all  laughed  together 
but  his  tears  blinded  him  so  that  he  couldn't  see  his 
glasses  till  I  picked  them  up  and  gave  them  to  him — " 
Here  the  tears  and  sobs  choked  her  utterance,  while 
there  seemed  to  be  no  laughter  mixed  with  them. 

"Don't  cry  so,  dear!  It's  all  over  now — and  how  far 
away  it  all  seems!  That  blessed  old  man!  I  must  see 
him!     Where  is  he,  do  you  know?" 

"No."      (Faintly  audible.) 

"I'll  write — no,  by  George,  I'll  telegraph!  Somebody 
must  know  his  address.  Please  get  me  pencil  and  paper, 
Sally  my  love." 

"Oh,  Will!     Wait  till  to-morrow." 

"But  why,  love?  I  want  to  write  the  message;  then 
if  it  is  going  to  cost  too  much — " 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that!" 

"Well;  whether  we  send  it  off  or  not,  it  will  show  our 
good  will,  and  we'll  give  it  to  him  when  he  returns. 
Just  humor  me,  Sally.    Give  me  pencil  and  paper,  please, " 

She  did  as  he  asked,  and  Fargeon  wrote: 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    WAR.  325 

"Best  friend.  Money  all  right.  Army  all  right.  Union 
all  right.     Leg  all  right.      Heart  all  right." 

"There!  Seventeen  words.  Twenty  will  go  by  night- 
rate  the  same  as  ten  by  day.     Can't  we  afford  that?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  weeping  girl. 

"Well,  let  us  make  it  twenty.  Let's  see;  suppose  we 
add   'wedding  very  soon.'      How  will  that  do?" 

She  only  shook  her  head. 

"Isn't  it  all  true?" 

"Yes,  I  hope  so." 

"Won't  he  be  pleased  to  read  it?  Then  why  do  you 
hang  back  so,  dear?  But  here  comes  your  father;  I'll 
leave  it  to  him.  Now,  Mr.  Penrose,  your  daughter  and  I 
have  fallen  out,  and  you  see  she  is  crying,  so  I  must  be 
in  the  wrong — but  how,  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  make 
out.  Here,  read  this  proposed  telegram  and  see  if  it  is 
a  matter  for  tears,  not  to  say  howls  of  anguish." 

"Why,  I  see  nothing  out  of  the  way  in  that.  Money 
— army — Union — leg — heart — all  right.  So  they  are,  to 
be  sure!  Wedding  very  soon;  well,  that's  for  you  two 
to  say.      But  to  whom  is  the  message  to  go?" 

"Why,  to  Uncle  Colin  Thorburn,  to  be  sure,"  cried 
Will,  bursting  into  a  gay  laugh  which  died  suddenly  on 
his  lips  as  he  saw  the  minister  stagger  as  if  he  had  been 
struck.  A  full  minute  of  oppressive  silence  followed; 
then  Mr.  Penrose  said,  with  deep  solemnity: 

"The  telegraph  hence  to  Heaven  is  not  of  wire,  but  of 
prayer.  Let  us  pra)'. "  Then,  kneeling,  he  poured  out 
fervent  thanks  for  the  blessings  which  the  world  had  re- 
ceived in  the  life  of  a  good  man  now  gone  to  his  reward, 
and  for  whose  special  goodness  to  those  present,  both 
in  his  life  and  in  his  death,  their  undying  thanks  should 
be  given;  first  to  God,  then  to  Colin  Thorburn,  the  in- 
strument   of    God's    mercy  and    His    bounty.     Will  lay 


326  THE   CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY   K. 

with  face  to  the  wall,  his  dry  eyes  covered  with  his 
hand.  Men  do  not  cry  for  the  death  of  older  men,  how- 
ever loved  and  honored. 


Yes,  the  grand  old  Scot  had  died,  most  suddenly,  dur- 
ing the  time  the  Sixth  was  at  Pittsburg  Landing,  before 
the  dreadful  days  of  Shiloh.  His  will,  when  opened, 
proved  to  be  a  curious  document,  the  product  of  the 
kindly  thoughts  of  a  kind  heart  through  many  years. 
Though  signed  and  witnessed  very  latel)^  some  of  the 
earlier  legacies  were  erased,  with  the  word  "dead"  writ- 
ten in  the  margin.  Others  were  erased  with  other  words 
to  explain  the  change:  "Society  turned  sectarian." 
"No  charity  school — only  a  land-speculation,"  and  so  on. 

Finally  came  the  residuary  clause,  added,  evidently, 
just  before  the  date  and  execution.  "All  the  rest  and  res- 
idue of  my  estate,  real  and  personal,  of  every  name  and 
nature,  I  shall  now  bestow  in  such  manner  as  it  seems  to 
me  will  best  undo  part  of  the  injustice  which  is  to  spring 
from  this  war,  for  I  do  perceive  that  it  is  to  be  the  rich 
man's  war,  but  the  poor  man's  fight;  that  those  will  get 
rich  who  do  not  fight;  and  those  who  do  fight  will  not 
get  rich — no,  never. 

"I  would  give  the  said  rest  and  residue  direct  to  my 
brave  and  beloved  young  friend,  William  Fargeon,  cap- 
tain in  the  Union  army  and  worthy  to  be  its  commander- 
in-chief,  as  I  in  my  heart  believe,  since  I  have  learqed 
the  manner  of  his  behavior  at  Donelson  and  elsewhere. 
The  reasons  why  I  do  not  give  it  to  him  direct  are: 

"Imprimis:  His  valor  may  cost  him  his  life,  and  I 
know  not  who  his  heirs  may  be: 

" Seatndo:  For  a  certain  cause  I  doubt  his  shrewdness 
and  discretion  in  business  matters,  and  the  caus^  of- my 
doubt  is  this;  videlicet;  that  in  a  late  crisis  in  his  affairs 


THE    FORTUNES    OF   WAR.  327 

he  was  unwise  enough  to  follow  the  counsel  of  an  old 
fool  who  thought  a  Yankee  ell  was  to  be  measured  by  a 
Scotchman's  thumb;  whereb)'  great  loss  accrued  to  him, 
the  said  William  Fargeon;  the  old  fool  who  gave  the 
bad  counsel  being  myself. 

"Now,  therefore,  I  do  give,  devise,  and  bequeath  the 
said  rest  and  residue  of  my  estate,  both  real  and  per- 
sonal, of  every  name  and  nature,  not  otherwise  herein- 
before disposed  of,  unto  Mistress  Sara  Penrose,  spin- 
ster; whereby  I  fervently  hope  that  it  may  inure  to 
the  benefit  and  behoof  of  the  said  Fargeon  as  her 
husband,  and  to  their  children,  should  God  grant 
them  that  blessing  which  He  hath  denied  unto  me,  for 
my  own  fault  and  short-coming,  in  that  I  married  not. 
And  should  they  have  so  many  knave-bairns  that  they 
know  not  where  to  seek  finer  appellations  for  them  all,  I 
bid  them  mind  that  Colin  Thorburn  is  a  name  that  hath 
not,  to  my  knowledge,  belonged  to  any  that  hath  been 
hanged  for  sheep-stealing." 

Immanuel  Penrose  was  named  executor  (with  compen- 
sation and  without  bonds),  and  the  said  executor  was  ad- 
vised to  consult,  as  legal  and  business  counsel,  the  testa- 
tor's old,  trusted,  most  valued  and  most  invaluable 
friend,  Mark  Skinner. 

When  he  came  to  read  the  will,  Fargeon  fell  to  think- 
ing aloud. 

"A  rich  man's  war  and    a    poor  man's    fight — a    rich 
main's  war  and  a  poor  man's  fight.     Yes;    that's  it — the 
soldiers  are  opening  and  shutting  the  gate,  'ike  the  man 
in  the  fable."     Then  to  his  lovely,  tireless  watcher: 
«  :   "So  you  are  a  great  heiress,  Sara?" 

•    ".Yes,  dear.     Please  be  very  humble  to  me,  and  always 
'X.^S'pect    my  slightest    wish   in    every    possible    way,    or 
dread  the  power  of  the  mighty  dollar." 


328  THE   CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Heigh-ho!  I  remember  your  saying  once  that  you  were 
usually  harmless,  but  terrible  when  roused.  Be  roused, 
please,  Miss  Penrose,  and  terrify  me." 

"But,  dear  Willie,  you  haven't  thwarted  my  slightest 
wish  yet.  How  can  I  be  roused  unless  you  rouse  me? 
Make  some  unreasonable  demand   and  see  me    flare  up." 

"Well — but  first  tell  me  how  much  your  fortune  is." 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me,  dear,  yet.  In  fact,  we  don't  know 
yet,  exactly." 

"Is  it  six  figures?" 

"Six?  Let  me  see."  She  turned  and  wrote  something 
on  paper.  "One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six!  You've  hit 
it  exactly!  You  are  a  wonderful  guesser!  That's  what 
it  is  to  have  been  a  business  man!  Exactly  six  figures 
— not  counting  cents." 

He  turned  his  head  languidly  to  the  wall  again  and 
began  tracing  the  pattern  of  the  paper  with  his  thin, 
white  forefinger.      A  ring  at  the  front  door-bell  was  heard. 

"Sara,  I  think  that  is  Doctor  Brainard.  Will  you 
please  let  me  see  hiri    alone?  " 

"Surely,  dear  Willie  'and  she  hurried  out.  After  the 
usual  routine  belonging  to  surgical  visits.  Will  asked: 

"Now,  Doctor,  when  can  I  rejoin  my  company?" 

"Rejoin  your  company?  Never,  with  my  consent.  No 
man  will  ever  march  on  an  artificial  leg  if  I  have  any- 
thing to  say  about  it.  Yojar  regiment,  as  a  mounted 
officer,  you  might  rejoin  in,  say,  a  month." 

"Humph!  Well,  Isaacs  ought  to  get  his  colonelcy  and 
I  my  full  majority  by  that  time." 

"Think  so?  Now  Jet  me  tell  3'ou  the  latest  doings  of 
your  precious  Republican  authorities  at  Washington." 
[The  doctor  was  a  stanch  Douglas  Democrat  and  oppo- 
nent of  the  Lincoln  administration.]  "Will  you  believe 
me,  Captain  Fargeon,  when  I  tell  you  that  the  order  has 


THE    FORTUNES    OF   V/AR.  329 

gone  forth  that  whenever  a  regiment  falls  below  five 
hundred  men  no  man  shall  be  promoted  to  the  colonelcy?" 

"What?      Oh,  I  don't— ^^;/'/ believe  it!" 

"That's  the  kind  of  a  War  Department  you  Republic- 
ans have  given  us!" 

"Oh,  I  can't  believe  it.  The  regiments  that  save  them- 
selves get  all  the  promotions,  and  those  that  sacrifice 
themselves  go  without?     Oh,  it  can't  be!" 

"I  know  it  can't  be — long,  but  it  is  now;  and  it  will 
be  until  we  can  put  somebody  in  power  of  a  different 
stripe  from  this  stock-jobbing,  office-seeking,  money- 
grabbing  crew!  Give  us  a  good  War-Democrat  like  Mc- 
Clellan,  and  such  disgraceful  things  will  be  impossible 
— and  the  Union  will  be  saved!"* 

When  the  doctor  had  gone,  Sara  returned  in  wild-eyed 
terror. 

"Oh,  Willie — the  doctor  says — j^ou  want  to  know — 
when  you  can — oh,  I  can't  speak  it!"  and  she  burst  into 
a  storm  of  tears  and  sobs. 

"There,  there,  there,  my  poor  child!  Don' t,  ^^« 7  sob 
so!  You'll  break  my  heart."  He  stroked  and  patted 
her  little  hand  in  a  vain  attempt  to  soothe  her  almost 
hysterical  distess.  "What  is  it,  Sara?  I  won't  do  any- 
thing you  wish  me  not  to  do." 

"Why  do  you  want  to  go  away?  Why  do  you  call  me 
Sara?     What  have  I  done?"    ■ 

"Nothing,  my  dear  girl,  except  all  that  an  angel  could 
and  would  do  for  a  poor  old  soldier,  wounded  and  help- 
less." 

She  started  up  and  stepped  back. 

"Have  J  done  it  for  a  poor  soldier,  wounded  and  help- 
less? Yes — but  it  was  also  for  a  friend — a  man  who  pro- 
fessed to  be  my  lover — promised  to  be  my  husband." 

♦  The  law  stands  to  this  day. 


330 


THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 


She  tossed  her  head,  compressed  her  lips,  and  glared 
at  him  with  eyes  that  seemed  fairly  to  snap,  in  their 
shining  excitement. 

He  returned  her  look  with  one  of  admiring  surprise. 
This  was  a  new  phase  of  her  beauty  and  new  develop- 
ment of  her  character.  Still  they  waited,  and  still  they 
looked.     How  v/as  the  scene  to  end? 

In  laughter,  of  course;  albeit  on  her  part  a  little  wild, 
and  verging  on  hysterics  at  first.  Then  she  knelt  by  his 
side  and  hid  her  face,  saying: 

"Now  you've  seen  me  roused.      Am   I  terrible  or  not?" 

"Not  merely  terrible — irresistible!  Such  a  blaze  of 
beauty  and  spirit  I  never  dreamed  of." 

"Oh,  you  base  flatterer!  You  were  rattled,  as  you  call 
it,  and  now  you  are  trying  to  disarm  me!  But  I  won't 
be  cajoled.      Promise  me  you'll  never,  ftever  do  so  again." 

"Tell  me  just  how  I  offende  I  you,  so  I  shall  know 
what  not  to  do  in  the  future." 

"Why,  call  me  by  formal  names,  and  try  to  escape  from 
me,  and  pretend  we  are  never  to  be — married!  So  there 
now!      I've  said  it!" 

"Why,  my  fine  lady,  beauty,  heiress,  woman  whom  all 
men  must  adore  and  of  whom  no  man  is  worthy — who 
am  I  that  I  should  presume  to  look  at  you?  To  hold 
you  to  a  promise  which  I  begged  from  you  when  you 
were  poor  and  I  was  rich — a  promise  you  never  made, 
by  the  bye,  after  all!" 

"Never  promised!"  she  cried  in  dismay.  "An  unen- 
gaged girl  treating  you  as  I  have  done?  That  may  com- 
port with  }'oi/r  idea  of  lady-like  propriet}^ — your  experi- 
ence of  well-bred  young  women — but  it  doesn't  with 
mine,  I  can  tell  you!" 

"There,  there,  my  darling;  don't  be  roused  again.  Re- 
member my  feeble  state — I  really  couldn't  stand  another 


THE    FORTUNES    OF  WAR.  33I 

vision  of  Diana  offended.  But  think  now,  seriously. 
Every  friend  you  have  in  the  v/orld  will  tell  you  that  my 
duty  is  to  leave  you  free  to  choose;  and  if  I  do  not,  I'm 
a  mean  fellow,  unworthy  to  be  your  husband." 

"As  fast  as  friends  told  me  so,  I'd  scratch  them  off  my 
list  of  friends." 

"Judge  Skinner  will  tell  you  so — and  he  is  in  a  kind  of 
way  your  guardian,  by  virtue  of  Uncle  Colin' s  having 
named  him  in  the  will." 

"Judge  Skinner?  You  don't  know  the  splendid,  per- 
fect gentleman!  He  haslet  me  know  unmistakabl}'  that 
he  thought  my  hero's  love  was  more  to  me  than  all  this 
money  or  a  hundred  times  as  much  could  be!  Why,  Will, 
don't  you  knew  that  his  son  has  gone  into  the  service?" 

"Has  Dick  Skinner  gone?" 

"Yes,  indeed!  Richard,  the  judge's  onlj'  son,  the  pride 
of  his  heart,  is  a  Union  soldier.  So  are  lots  of  others, 
the  flower  of  our  young  men — Will  De  Wolf,  John  Kinzie, 
Lucius  Larrabee,  and  many,  many  more.*  I  can  fancy 
Judge  Skinner's  fine  scorn  on  hearing  mere  money  set  off 
against — things  like  that?" 

After  a  pause,  Sail}'  added,  as  a  clincher: 

"Dear  Uncle  Colin  said  in  his  will  that  it  was  you  he 
wished  to  help;  and  he  gave  me  the  money  for  that  pur- 
pose." 

"He  placed  no  conditions  on  you — did  not  bind  you  in 
any  way — and  if  he  had,  I  should  set  you  free,  seeing 
how  things  have  changed  by  my  becoming  a  useless 
cripple." 

"That's  what  I  call  morbid!" 

"That's  right — trample  on  me — call  me     proud,  if  you 


*  William  De  Wolf,  killed  at  Williamsburg  in  1862;  John  H.  Kinzie,  killed  at  Fort 
St.  Charles  in  1863;  Lucius  S.  Larrabee,  killed  at  Gettysburg  in  1863;  Richard  Skin- 
ner, killed  at  Petersburg  in  1864. 


332  THE   CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

like;  too  proud  to  be  inflicted  upon  a  splendid  woman 
who  might  come  to  just  a  sacrifice,  devoting  herself  to 
a  worthy  man,  a  wreck  who  needed  her  help,  as  I  did 
yours  after  Donelson,  and  since  Shiloh." 

Sally  was  dreadfully  hurt  at  this  unconscious  reminder 
of  the  dirty  tent  at  Donelson — of  something  she  was 
always  trying  to  forget.  No  heroics  now;  only  tears, 
tears,  tears,  and  sobs.  She  would  not  be  comforted, 
though  Will  was  doing  his  best  to  soothe  and  quiet  her. 

"You — only — see — my  faults — and  mistakes — and — fail 
ings — oh — oh — oh — I — can't — bear  it!" 

"There,  there,  there,  sweet  one  !  I  only  see  my  own — 
you  have  none!  You  are  glorious;  it  is  I  who  am  noth- 
ing— nothing !" 

The  storm  passed  and  sweet  sunshine  followed,  the 
world  being  lovelier  in  its  spangling  of  pearly  drops. 

"Now,  my  dear  Will,  don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about 
it.  I  knew  you  were  so  romantic — or  rather  so  sordid 
and  unromantic — that  I  was  afraid  of  something  of  this 
kind,  and  had  a  dim  notion  that  all  this  might  be  kept 
a  secret  until  after  we  were — married.  But  you  were 
always  so  awfully  patient  about  iJiat  that  I  despaired, 
and  let  it  but.  Well — never  mind.  If  }  ou  want  to  be 
let  off  your  promise,  I'll  absolve  you  from  it.  Major  Far- 
geon,  we  meet  hereafter  only  as  friends!"    [Mock-heroic] 

But  they  did  not  part  "only  as  friends." 

All  minor  crises  our  wounded  captain  had  safely 
passed;  now  was  approaching  a  trial — perhaps  the  sever- 
est of  all  that  had  occurred  since  the  knife  did  its  sharp 
work.  The  Prouders  and  Lydia  were  coming  home  with- 
out a  single  additional  bit  of  intelligence  to  indicate 
Mac's  fate — or  even  to  distinguish  his  grave  among  the 
un-marked  thousands  the  confederates  had  made  between 
our  lines  and  Corinth. 


THE    FORTUNES   OF   WAR, 


333 


Our  army,  splendid  in  size,  equipment,  and  preparation, 
had  advanced,  with  ponderous  weakness,  to  Corinth,  to 
find  there  only  deserted  breast-works,  Quaker  guns,  beans 
burning  aromatically  in  the  ruins  of  confederate  store- 
houses, two  destro3^ed  railroads,  one  hundred  and  twent}^- 
five  of  the  enemy's  sick  occupying  the  "Tishomingo 
Hotel,"  and  lots  of  darkys  occupying  the  rest  of  the 
town  in  great  comfort  and  hilarity. 

Let    us    not    invidiously  name  the  authority  to  which 
this    example    of    the       ^ 
"mountain     in     labor"       |         ^     I 
was    chargeable.     We  "'^-         "   ''" 
will  only  say  that  Grant        '  '^■ 
had  been  superseded, 
and  that  the  whole  ab- 
surd movement  seemed 
to  cry  aloud  once  more, 
"An  army  of  lions  led 
by  a  sheep  is  less  for- 
midable than   an  army 
of  sheep  led  by  a  lion.  " 

Day  after  day  did 
tireless  old  Prouder 
search  those  woods. 
Besides  his  own  search- 
ing he  hired  all  the  trustworthy  help  he  could  secure, 
ranging  from  three  to  fifteen  men.  He  could  not  use 
the  negroes,  because  they  were  unable  to  decipher  the 
pencil  scrawls  on  the  few  head-posts  which  bore  them. 
The  very  first  day  he  hired  them  he  was  appalled  to  see 
them  return  loaded  with  these  rude  mementoes  ruthlessly 
dug  from  the  places  where  survivors  had  piously  put 
them. 

"Yes,  bans — dis  h'yer  chunk  wuz  a-stickin'  plum  outen 


334  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

a  grabe  dat  look  fer  all  de  worl'  lak  it  mought  'a'  be'n 
'Tenant  Clenter's  grabe.  T' ought  I'd  fotch  it  'long,  so's 
ter  jes'  let  ye  see  ef  it  wuz  his'n  er  no." 

Prouder  was  so  shocked  at  the  unintentional  sacrilege 
that  he  did  not  tell  his  wife  and  Lydia  of  the  circum- 
stance, but  paid  the  darkeys  one  more  day's  wages  all 
round  to  take  the  sticks  back  to  where  they  found  them. 

"Oh,  yes,  baus.  We  done  foun'  'em  all,  'n'  stuck  'em 
plum  back  in  de  same  holes  dey  kim  outen.  T'ankee, 
baus.  Hope  ye'll  fin'  'im.  'Fore  God  I  do!  Fin'  'is 
head  anyway,  wever  ye  fin'  de  rest  of  'm  er  not." 

A  pressing  telegram  from  Governor  Yates  gave  him  all 
the  help  that  could  come  from  inquiries  by  flag  of  truce, 
and  after  all,  his  crowning  effort  was  directed  toward 
gaining  admission  to  the  enemy's  lines  for  himself  in 
person.  This  was  one  of  the  bitterest  trials  of  his  life; 
for  the  tears  and  clinging  arms  of  his  wife,  whom  he 
loved  better  than  life  itself,  were  used  to  prevent  his 
going.  [Even  eloquently  bitter  words  regarding  herself 
and  their  children  were  added  to  her  weapons  of  oppo- 
sition.] Nevertheless,  he  tried — and  failed.  He  might 
enter  the  confederate  lines;  but  not  to  return,  whether 
with  Lieutenant  McClintock  or  without  him. 

The  Shiloh  and  Corinth  camps  (the  unmilitary  part) 
were  very  sorry  to  see  Mr.  Prouder  depart,  for  an  un- 
failing spring  of  greenbacks  was  then  and  there  dried 
up.  Sharp  bargains  he  drove;  but  the  cash  was  always 
ready  to  meet  his  part  of  each  contract.  One  fellow, 
caught  lounging  about  a  sutler's  tent  when  under  engage- 
ment to  search  a  certain  part  of  the  woods,  felt  the 
weight  of  the  old  man's  hand  and  the  hardness  of  his 
boot;   but  not  without  richly  deserving  it. 

Telegrams  have  told  of  their  leaving  Pittsburgh  Land- 
ing, of  their  passing  Fort  Henry  and    other    points,    of 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    WAR.  335 

their  leaving  Cairo.  Now  the  carriages  approach  the 
parsonage,  where  all  the  family  are  standing  on  the 
porch  awaiting  them.  Mrs.  Prouder' s  lovely  face  shines 
from  the  coach  window — 

"The  mother-hunger  glittering  in  her  eye." 
And  she  springs  from  the  door  almost  before  the  wheels 
have  stopped  turning. 

"He  is  getting  well!"  cries  Sally,  running  down  to 
meet  her. 

"He!  Which?  Have  they  been  ill?"  And  the  other 
flies  past  the  younger  woman,  never  stopping  till  she  lias 
her  boys  in  her  arms. 

"I  do  believe  she  thinks  more  of  those  young  cubs  of 
hers  than  she  does  of  Will!"  says  the  mortified  Sally  to 
Lydia,  as  she  greets  her  with  kiss  after  kiss.  But  how 
much  older  you  look!  And  how  saddened — my  poor 
darling!  No  wonder — all  this  suspense;  but  cheer  up, 
dear!      'No  news  is  good  news,'  you  know." 

"Yes,"  answers  Lydia,  doubtfull)^,  despairingly.  "No 
news  that  we  get  is  ever  good  news. " 

As  she  weeps  in  her  sister's  arms,  she  already  per- 
ceives, though  dimly,  that  regarding  the  missing"  in 
battle,    "no  news"  is  almost  synonymoup  with  "no  hope." 


Mr.  Prouder  had  never  encouraged  them  to  look  for 
tidings  that  Mac  was  still  alive.  He  had  secretly  received 
from  Mark  (through  Doctor  Strafford,  to  whom  Mark 
had  confided  them),  Mac's  watch  and  the  little  needle- 
case  recovered  from  the  marauding  corpse-robber — mute 
witnesses  of  almost  certain  martyrdom.  True,  the 
ghoul  might  have  stolen  them  from  a  helpless  living 
man  as  well  as  from  a  dead  body;  but  the  chance  of 
survival,  always  small,  had  now  dwindled  to  the  merest 
speck,  as  all  must  see. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ADVANCE,    FRIEND,    AND    GIVE    THE    COUNTERSIGN. 

AR  from  winning  any  due  reward  for  its 
heroic  sacrifices,  the  Sixth  was  by  them 
debarred  from  even  routine  promotion. 
It  was  not  now  large  enough  to  call  for  a 
colonel.  If  it  could  be  filled  up  again, 
then  its  offices  would  be  filled;  otherwise 
not. 

"Well,"  cried  the  zealous  and  hopeful  Mr.  Penrose; 
"we  must  fill  it  up  again,  that's  all!"  And  he  sat  down 
at  once  and  spent  a  whole  evening  writing  a  glowing 
appeal,  which  he  sent  to  the  Fulcrum,  in  the  columns  of 
which  paper  he  sought  for  it  daily  for  weeks  afterward. 
The  fact  is  that  the  editor,  as  soon  as  he  glanced  at  the 
signature,  threw  the  paper,  unread,  into  the  waste- 
basket.      "Drop  Penrose,"  we  remember. 

New  regiments  were  forming,  filling  up,  and  departing 
constantl}^  Why  not  divert  part  of  the  stream — already 
nearly  100,000  men  from  Illinois — to  fill  up  the  glorious 
Sixth?  In  season  and  out  of  season  Mr.  Penrose  de- 
picted the  dreadful  losses  it  had  sustained.  He  had 
lists  printed  of  the  killed  and  wounded,  and  described 
their  fearful  wounds  and  their  heroic  deaths.  He  ex- 
tolled their  services,  and  prophesied  that  the  Sixth 
would  offer  still  more  splendid  opportunities  for  martyr- 
dom and  self-sacrifice  in  the  future.  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  even  these  exhilarating  and  alluring  pictures  failed  to 

336 


ADVANCE,   FRIEND,   AND   GIVE  THE  COUNTERSIGN.  337 

draw  in  new  men.  The  new  men  obstinately  preferred 
to  go  into  the  new  regiments,  where  new  offices  were 
to  be  had — regimental,  company,  and  non-commissioned — 
even  though  the  slaughter  should  never  equal  that  in  the 
older  regiments. 

When  Will  grew  so  strong  that  inaction  became  intol- 
erable, he  got  an  assignment  to  duty  at  Camp  Douglas, 
high  enough  to  use  his  brevet  rank;  thus  becoming,  at' 
least  in  name,  a  mounted  officer,  with  corresponding  pay 
and  allowances.  Sorely  was  he  tempted  to  get  Mark 
Looney  assigned  to  duty  with  him;  but — "What  would 
Mac  say?"  So  Mark  rejoined  the  regiment  at  Corinth 
in  time  to  take  part  in  the  splendid  defense  of  that 
post  when  it  was  fruitlessly  attacked  by  the  forces  of 
Price  and  Van  Dorn.  Again  the  gallant  few  were  made 
fewer,   and  promotion  more  distant  than  ever. 

"My  boys  keep  opening  the  gate,"   sighed  Will. 

He  bought  a  quiet  steed,  contented  to  stard  like  a 
wooden  horse  while  that  awkward  stiff  leg  could  be 
thrown  over  the  saddle,  and  that  insensate  toe  be  made 
to  find  its  blind  way  into  the  stirrup;  but  just  as  he 
thought  all  was  well,  he  saw  some  boys  laughing  at  the 
"queer  leg,"  that  stuck  out  so!  Will  couldn't  blame  them 
— though  Sara  cried  when  he  told  her  of  it.  So  when  real 
comfort  and  convenience  were  to  be  sought  for,  the  quiet 
horse  was  harnessed  to  a  buggy,  and  the  quiet  groom 
(or  sometimes  quiet  Sara  Penrose)  accompanied  him  on 
his  errands  of  business  and  pleasure. 

"Morphy,  my  boy,"  he  wrote  to  the  lieutenant,  "when 
you  have  a  limb  shot  off,  look  out  that  it's  an  arm  and 
not  a  leg.  Nothing  belittles  a  man,  'takes  the  tuck  out 
of  him,'  and  hampers  every  act  of  his  life,  so  much  as 
to  be  restricted  in  his  locomotion.  Pm  the  one  winged 
goose  in  the  flight — the  one  hobbled  horse  in  the  drove. 

22 


338  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

I'd  rather  lose  one  arm  than  two  legs,  Barney — I  would, 
indeed."  And  Morphy,  Irishman  as  he  was,  never  saw 
the  shadow  of  a  joke  in  the  letter. 

The  place  where  he  felt  happiest,  happier  than  any- 
where except,  perhaps,  at  the  parsonage,  was  in  the 
hospitals.  There,  relieving  physical  pain,  succoring  the 
helpless,  comforting  the  despairing,  aiding  the  bereaved 
— there,  and  there  alone,  he  forgot  all  his  misfortunes,  his 
maimed  limb,  his  fallen  friends,  his  halting  and  inglo- 
rious future — all,  all  fled  and  dissolved  into  nothingness 
at  the  sight  of  continually  fresh  batches  of  human  suf- 
fering to  be  delightfully  assuaged.  In  all  this  blessed 
and  self-rewarding  work,  Sara  Penrose  was  his  faithful, 
willing  helper;  a  burden-sharer  of  the  right  kind  in  the 
right  place. 

Filled  with  contrition,  Will  dwelt  on  at  the  parsonage 
during  his  helplessness,  because  he  had  no  valid  reason 
for  going  away;  no  reason  which  he  dared  to  acknowl- 
edge. But  when  his  assignment  to  duty  came,  he 
promptly  took  up  his  quarters  at  the  pos^.  Not  all  the 
officers  did  so;  but  he  said  to  the  questioning,  loving 
folks  at  the  parsonage  that  he  kneiv  his  duty,  whether 
others  knew  theirs  or  not.      To  himself  he  said: 

"I  know  my  duty  to  that  lovely  young  princess — it  is 
to  leave  her  to  her  own  devices,  and  try  to  hope  that  she 
can  find  a  happier  fate  than  marriage  with  a  wreck  of 
humanity." 

Then  he  would  "efface"  himself,  and  be  only  one  of  the 
many — young,  old,  and  middle-aged— who  found  them- 
selves attracted  to  the  minister's  hospitable  fireside, 
now  more  hospitable  than  ever  since  the  executorship 
was  yielding  a  handsome  income  outside  the  unlimited 
sums  at  command  of  the  elder  daughter.  Fargeon  even 
took  care    to    bring    up    and    present    the    most   worthy 


339 


340 


THE   CAPTAIN    OF  COMPANY  K. 


youths,  in  the  army  and  out  of  it,  who  came  within  his 
sphere.  "Sara  the  fair"  only  looked  at  them  smiling 
and  polite,  at  him  wistful  and  reproachful. 

"I  think  I  shall  never  marry,"  she  said;  and  her  words 
were  repeated  to  Will.  With  jealous  pain  he  would  say 
to  himself,  "There's  young  Fortune  again — a  West 
Pointer,  and  a  brigadier-general  at  thirty — she  ou^ht  to 
fall  in  love  with  him!"  Then  the  cold  smile  for  the 
other,  and  the  warm  look  for  him,  would  raise  him  to 
the  seventh  heaven,  and  he  would  say,  "I  am  doing  her 

an  injustice — and  m.y- 
self  a  useless  cruelty." 
For  his  veins  were  again 
filling  with  healthy 
blood,  and  his  muscles, 
bodily  and  mentally, 
were  hardening  into 
vigorous  manhood  once 
more. 

One  evening,  after 
General  Fortune  had 
retired  from  the  field, 
evidently  disheartened, 
and  Sara,  as  usual,  had  emerged  suddenly  from  cold 
gravity  into  warm  gayety,  Will,  exultant  and  indiscreet, 
broke  forth : 

"Loveliest — dearest — best  of  created  beings — I  believe 
I'm  a  born  fool!      When  shall  the  wedding  be?" 

"J/y  wedding,  Major  Fargeon?  With  General  Fortune? 
Or  if  not,  with  whom?"  (Bridling  with  a  pretense  of 
offended  dignity). 

If  she  had  wanted  to  punish  him  for  anything  she 
would  have  taken  delight  in  seeing  his  features  fall  into 
lines  of  utter  dismay  and    confusion    and  the    blood  ebb 


ADVANCE,    FRIEND,    AND  GIVE  THE  COUNTERSIGN.  34 1 

from  cheek  and  lip,  leaving  a  look  that  reminded  her  of 
his  most  helpless  time.  But  she  did  not.  The  dear  girl 
scarcely  waited  a  moment  before,  holding  out  both  her 
hands  to  him,  she  cried: 

"There,  there!  Don't  look  so — just  come  and  kneel  at 
my  feet  and  beg  my  pardon  for  your  heartless  and  friv- 
olous behavior — throwing  other  men  at  my  head  as  if  you 
were  a  prince  trying  to  get  rid  of  a  wearisome  favorite!" 

"My  heart  kneels  to  you,  sweet  one;  but  my  kneeling 
days,  bodily  speaking,  are  past — unless  you'll  wait  while 
I  unstrap  my  cork  leg." 

"Never  mind!  If  you  can't  kneel  to  me,  I'll  come 
and  kneel  to  you.  There  now;  I  can  look  right  into  your 
eyes  and  ask  you  how  you  dared  behave  so!" 

"Well,  it  was  audacious,  I  admit ;  but  you  v/ere  so  un- 
utterably lovely — " 

"So  unutterably  lovely  that  you  let  me  alone?" 

"No;  asked  you  to  marry  me — to  fix  the  wedding-day. " 

"Oh,  I'm  not  finding  fault  with  th-at!" 


Could  anything  add  to  their  unspeakable  happiness? 
Yes,  greatly;  but  some  things  might  occur  to  detract 
from  it.  For  instance,  there  was  an  untimely  ring  at  the 
front  door.  Lydia  (who  had  discreetly  retired  with  the 
others  and  left  them  alone),  came  in,  to  find  them  calmly 
seated  at  an  unexceptionable  distance  apart,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  tell-tale  faces. 

"I  thought  I'd  come  to  see  if  you  heard  the  bell.  But 
I  suppose  it  can't  be  a  caller  at  this  hour." 

"A  man  to  see  Captain  Fargeon,"  announced  the 
"second-girl." 

"Is  he  an  orderly?" 

"No,  sir;  he  looks  more  like  a  tramp.  He  just  rang 
the  bell  and  then  went  back  to  the  gate." 


342  THE  CAPTAIN   OF  COMPANY    K. 

"Oh,  Will — send  out  to  find  out  what  he  wants!  Per- 
haps he's — a  copperhead — an  assassin." 

"Ha-ha,  my  love!  Your  father's  own  daughter;"  and 
he  disappeared.  Step  —  clump,  step  —  clump,  step  — 
clump,  they  heard  the  well-known  and  well-beloved  halt- 
ing tread  through  the  hall,  over  the  porch,  down  the 
door-step.  Then  they  heard  no  more. 

"Well,  comrade,  what  can  I  do  for  3^ou?  Do  I  know 
you?     Glad  to  see  you,  whoever  you  are." 

"Captain  Fargeon— '" 

Will's  cry  burst  upon  the  still  air: 

"Oho-ho-ho-ho,  my  dear  boy,  my  dear  Mac,  my  dearest 
friend  come  back  to  me  from  the  grave!     Mac! — Mac!" 

He  began  with  a  wild  laugh  and  ended  with  a  wilder 
sob  as  tears  choked  his  speech,  and  he  could  only  hob- 
ble forward,  stretch  out  his  arms  and  babble  meaningless 
S5dlables,  while  the  other  retreated  until  he  had  closed 
the  front  gate  between  them. 

"Hold  on.  Captain — hold  on  till  I  tell  you — " 

"Oh,  Mac,  Mac!  what  do  you  mean?  You  are  Mac, 
aren't  you?     Not  Mac's  ghost?" 

"Yes,  I'm  Mac,  what  there  is  left  of  me;  but  you 
can't  come  near  me  till  I've  had  a  chance  to  care  for 
myself — had  a  bath  and — so  forth." 

"Bath  be  hanged!  You're  coming  right  in,  or  I'll 
know  the  reason  v/hy!  I'll  get  5^ou  your  bath  and  your 
clean  clothes — give  you  every  clo'  I've  got  in  the  world 
down  to  what  I  have  on  my  back!  Let  me  open  this  gate, 
I  tell  you!"  And  he  tried  to  loosen  the  other's  hold  on 
the  top  bar. 

"If  you  do  I'll  run  down  the  street!" 

"Why,  Mac,  what  do  you  mean?  If  it  were  anybody 
else  in  the  world  I'd  get  angry." 

"I'm  just  out  of  a  rebel  prison — and  clear  of  a  steamer- 


343 


344  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY   K. 

load  and  a  train-load  of  fellow-prisoners — and  I  haven't 
had  a  single  cent  in  my  hand  since  I  saw  you  last — and 
I'm  dirty,  and  starved,  and  I  want  you  to  lend  me  ten 
dollars." 

"I've  a  great  mind  to  say  no,  because  you  won't  come 
in  and  take  everything  I've  got  in  the  world  instead  of 
your  beggarly  ten  dollars!" 

"Oh,  I  guess  you  won't  refuse  me." 

"No;  but  why  won't  you  come  in,  clean  or  dirty,  you 
blessed  old  prodigal  son  you!  I  tell  you  there  are  some 
arms  inside  you'd  find  harder  to  fight  shy  of  than  mine!" 

"Oh,  yes — that's  all  very  fine — but  here,  let  me  whis- 
per to  you." 

He  whispered. 

"Oh,  ho,  ho!  I  see!  No,  you  can't  come  in.  I  won't 
allow  it;  if  you'd  said  only  five  hundred  I  might — but 
a  thousand!  Well,  I  must  go  inside  for  the  money. 
Wait  a  minute  till  I  get  my  eyes  wiped  dry  and  my  face 
straightened  out.  If  they  find  out  you're  here  they'll 
all  be  out  here  in  a  jiffy." 

"Then  I  should  have  to  run  away." 

"Yes — you  tearing  down  Wabash  avenue  with  the  Pen- 
rose family  after  you,  would  be  an  edifying  spectacle — 
and  I  bringing  up  the  rear  on  my  one  leg. 

"Left  one  at  Shiloh?     Good  God!" 

"Yes,  but  this  minute  I  don't  care  for  it — not  a  hooter!" 

He  entered  the  room  where  the  sisters  were  anxiously 
waiting. 

"Another  of  them  I  suppose.  Will?" 

"Yes,  my  dear  banker,  another  of  them.  How  much 
money  have  you?" 

"Oh"  (pulling  out  her  purse),  "there;  you'll  find  sev- 
eral dollars  in  it." 

"Any  more  upstairs?" 


ADVANCE,    FRIEND,    AND   GIVE  THE   COUNTERSIGN.         345 

"Yes.     How  much  do  you  want  to  give  him?" 

"How  much  have  you,  you  blessed  gold-mine?" 

"Oh,  I  have  fifty  dollars,  all  but  that  in  the  purse, 
which  I  took  out  of  the  fifty." 

"Well,  bring  that,  please.  And  do  you  suppose  your 
father  has  any?" 

"I'll  ask  him  if  you  wish." 

"Have  you  any,  Lydia?" 

"Why,  yes,  a  few  dollars." 

"Well,  I  have  a  few  myself.  Bring  it  all,  please,  and 
I'll  tell  you  why,  in  less  than  five  minutes." 

The  entire  contribution-box  made  a  bulky  roll,  which 
Will  squeezed  into  Mac's  hand  and  bade  him  good- 
night, and  told  him  to  come  back  at  noon  next  day, 
"clothed  and  in  his  right  mind. "  Then  he  went  back  to  the 
sitting-room  and  lay  flat  down  on  the  rug,  that  he  might 
laugh  and  cover  his  face  and  roll  about  at  his  ease. 

The  sisters  looked  at  him  and  at  each  other. 

"Lydia!" 
"Sara!  " 

"There's  only  one  thing  that  could  make  him  act  so!" 

"Is  it  true,  Will?" 

"YES!  THAT  WAS  MAC!" 

Lydia  ran  out  of  the  room,  and  they  heard  the  gate 
bang  shut  behind  her  flying  footsteps.  Presently  she 
returned,  almost  crying. 

"Why  did  you  let  him  go?"  she  asked  in  hot,  hurt 
tones. 

"I  just  had  to!  He  was  neither  to  'hand  nor  to  bind,' 
as  dear  old  Colin  used  to  say.  As  soon  as  he  heard  you 
were  here  he  fled  wildly  into  the  night — and  it  may  be 
that  he  has  sought  relief  in  suicide.  If  not,  you'll  see 
him  here  at  high  noon  to-morrow." 

When  Lydia  had  left  them  again  alone,  the  lovers  had 


34^  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

their  longest,  sweetest  talk  all  about  themselves  and  "the 

others." 

"They'll  be  the  very  church-mice  of  poverty,  Sally." 
"Oh — I  guess  dear  Uncle  Colin' s  pot  will  always  yield 

enough  broth  for  us  all." 


The  war  is  long  past  and  gone — dead  and  buried  and 
forgotten  except  for  political  purposes.  We  are  now  de- 
voted to  business,  and  every  thing  is  on  a  business  basis. 
Greenbacks,  worth  forty  per  cent,  before  we  won  the 
fight,  are  now  worth  par,  so  that  account  is  squared 
off.  Eighty  per  cent,  of  the  war  debt  is  pairl.  Twenty 
per  cent,  of  the  war  taxes  are  abolished;  and  if  more  are 
not  done  away  with  it  is  not  because  the  United  States 
Treasury  needs  the  money,  but  because  some  favored 
citizens  are  not  yet  as  rich  as  the  United  States  Treas- 
ury, though  they  wish  to  become  so.  The  nation  is  forty 
per  cent,  bigger  than  when  the  war  closed,  and  a  million 
per  cent,  more  booming  than  any  other  nation  ever  was, 
ever  dared  to  be,  or  ever  will  be.  Fifty  per  cent,  of  the 
taxes  collected  are  yearly  paid  out  in  pensions.  Fifty 
per  cent,  of  the  dead  are  forgotten,  and  the  other  fifty  per 
cent,  are  half  forgotten;  so  that  to  the  rest  of  the  world 
(and  to  them)  it  is  all  the  same,  within  twenty  five  per  cent. 
as  if  nobody  had  been  killed  at  all.  As  to  the  wounded, 
each  of  those  who  still  survive  has  come  within  from 
forty  to  sixty  per  cent,  of  becoming  accustomed  and  rec- 
onciled to  his  disability;  and  this  last-named  percentage 
is  further  mitigated  by  the  pensions  paid — including  one  to 
Private  Dugong,  who  is  supposed  to  have  strained  his 
back  carrying  a  wounded  officer  off  the  field  at  Shiloh; 
whereby  he  feels  forced  to  walk  quite  bent  over  on  four 
several  days  in  the  year — those  on  wnich  he  goes  to  draw 
his  pension.     He  lately  got  an  increase  (including   large 


ADVANCE,    FRIEND,    AND   GIVE   THE   COUNTERSIGN.  347 

arrears),  on  its  being  shown  that  he  was  once  a  corporal, 
though  not  so  at  the  time  he  incurred  his  injury. 

On  the  whole,  the  fighters,  dead  and  alive,  ought  to 
be  very  thankful  that  things  have  turned  out  so  well; 
and  to  feel  entirely  satisfied  with  the  general  result. 

Mentioning  the  wounded  brings  us  naturally  to  Captain 
and  Brevet-Major  William  Fargeon.  He  is  one  who 
comes  within  sixty  per  cent,  of  being  reconciled  to 
his  wound;  and  he  does  not  enjoy  the  pension  mitigation 
because  he  foolishly  but  persistently  declines  to  apply 
for  a  pension.  He  irrationally  says  that  for  support  he 
does  not  need  the  pension  (though  he  does  need  the  other 
leg),  and  as  to  taking  the  country's  money  as  pay  for  his 
services — money  cannot  pay  for  such  things;  they  bear 
no  more  relation  to  money  than  the  Aurora  Borealis  does 
to  a  pig's  e3^ebrow. 

His  wife  and  daughters  do  not  agree  with  him  in  this 
view.  They  think  that  since  papa's  profession  (surgery, 
which  he  studied  during  the  war  and  has  practiced 
since)  seems  to  yield  him  so  very  little,  there  is  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  do  as  other  men  do,  and  make 
the  country  pay  at  least  a  small  part  of  the  debt  it  owes 
him.      "But,  then,  poor  dear  papa  is  so  peculiar." 

Yes,  alas!  he  is  "peculiar."  He  will  not  apply  for 
a  pension,  although  so  many  are  getting  it  who  are  really 
not  as  deserving  of  it  as  he  is.  He  rarely  talks  of  war, 
except  with  old  soldiers.  He  cares  nothing  for  politics, 
and  never  even  tries  to  get  into  office.  There  are  some 
tunes  he  cannot  listen  to,  in  general  company.  He  eats 
what  is  put  on  his  plate,  no  more  and  no  less,  and  calls 
it  a  "ration."  He  loves  his  pipe  more  than  he  does — 
most  other  things;  and  then  his  funny  regard  for  a  sim- 
ple match!  ("Marcloonies"  as  he  calls  them,  or,  for 
short   "marcs.") 


348  THE  CAPTAIN    OF    COMPANY  K. 

Mark,  by  the  way,  is  orderly  sergeant  in  Mac's  com- 
pany of  the  — th  infantry,  U.  S.  A.  This  is  the  height 
of  Mark's  ambition;  and  he,  with  his  arm  nearly  covered 
with  "Service  stripes,"  and  his  purse  overflowing  with 
"fogy  rations"  (greatly  to  the  delectation  of  the  young 
McClintocks)  is  probably  the  most  serenely  contented  of 
our  three  volunteers. 

Will  is  sorry  his  profession  yields  so  little — sorry  and 
at  first  surprised.  He  studied  thoroughly  and  has  prac- 
ticed successfully  (from  a  professional  point  of  view), 
both  in  military  hospitals  and  outside.  His  rich  old 
friends  are  most  cordial,  and  often  say  to  him: 

"You  know.  Major,  that  we  who  did  not  go  out — I  could 
not,  the  way  my  business  was  situated — feel  that  we  owe 
you  fellows  who  did  go  a  debt  of  gratitude  that  can  never 
be  repaid. " 

And  so,  naturally,  they  don't  try  to  repay  it;  but  they 
do  recognize  his  position  as  an  ex-soldier,  a  man,  and  a 
surgeon,  for  they  throw  into  his  hands  a  great  deal  of  busi- 
ness of  the  charitable,  non-paying  kind.  He  is  always 
fully  supplied  with  it;  in  fact,  could  have  more  of  it  to 
do  if  he  could  possibly  attend  to  it.  When  there  is  any- 
thing "with  money  in  it"  to  be  done,  of  course  it  goes 
elsewhere,  but  when  a  soldier's  widow  and  orphans  want 
anything  Will  is  always  appealed  to,  and  never  in  vain. 

Similar  laws  seem  to  govern  his  other  experiences. 
His  voluntary  contributions  to  current  publications  are 
often  accepted  (unless  there  is  about  these  a  suspicion 
of  "free  advertising"  of  some  object  or  other);  but  when 
he  tried  a  magazine  article — which  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters thought  really  quite  good — it  was  returned  to  him 
with  a  printed  blank  assuring  him  that  the  editors  did 
not  presume  to  judge  of  the  merit  of  his  work;  simply 
they  did  not  find  it  adapted   to  their    present    purposes. 


ADVANCE,    FRIEND,    AND   GIVE  THE   COUNTERSIGN. 


349 


And,  what  was  still  more  consoling,  was  an  autograph 
note  (unsigned)  saying  that  the  public  was  "tired  of  the 
war."  So  of  course  it  v/as  not  its  own  quality  which  con- 
demned his  article,  but  an  outside  circumstance. 

"Curious,  too,  to  think  how  tired  /  was  of  it  once 
when  //ley  were  not;  and  now  they  are  tired  of  it  when  I 
am  not.     Well,  I'll  go  on  tending  gate." 

Captain  and  Mrs.  McClintock  and  their  numerous 
fiock  are  always  at  some  out-of-the-way  post  on  the 
frontier.  Their  Aunt  Sara  is  sorry  she  cannot  entertain 
them  more — but  dear 
■Bunny  has  such  a  per- 
fect raft  of  children, 
you  know;  and  then, 
of  course,  dear  brother 
Mac  has  only  his  pay 
and  cannot  spare  much 
for  traveling  expenses. 
But,  then,  there  are 
only  thirty-nine 'rank- 
ing captains  between 
him  and  his  majority; 
and  that  will  help  ma- 
terially if  his  life  is 
spared.  We  don't  know  why  he  never  seems  to  get  any  of 
those  pleasant  eastern  berths.  Probably  he  is  too  valuable 
an  officer  to  be  brought  away  from  the  frontier.  Every 
year  a  box  of  our  dear  girls'  things,  only  a  very  little  worn, 
goes  to  them,  costing  them  nothing  but  the  expressage. 


In  Washington  a  very  Great  Man  taps  a  bell  which 
calls  his  secretary  into  his  office. 

"Now,  about  those  damned  assignments.  How  far  had 
we  got?" 


350  THE   CAPTAIN  OF  COMPANY    K. 

"To  Captain  McClintock. " 

"What  about  him?" 

"First-rate  officer;  wounded  in  the  war;  fine,  large 
young  family;  been  out  eleven  years  steady." 

"Is  he — ?"  [A  nod  of  the  head  toward  the  Hudson 
River  fills  out  the  sentence.] 

"No!     Ranks." 

"Any  letters  from  anybody  regarding  him  on  file?" 

"No.      No  letters  nor  personal  calls." 

"Well;   pass  him  for  the  present.     Who's  next?" 

Each  gives  a  little  sigh  and  forgets  all  about  poor  Mac. 


Blessed  old  Parson  Penrose,  saint  on  earth,  goes  about 
serving  God  and  doing  good,  under  certain  discourage- 
ments. When  (not  long  since)  he  jocularly  suggested 
to  his  congregation  that  he  was  getting  too  old  to  keep 
his  pulpit,  they  surprised  him  by  taking  him  seriously, 
and  retiring  him  on  a  pension.  All  this  he  could  forgive 
— has  long  since  forgiven — but  alas!  the  "indifferentism" 
that  is  undermining  everything! 

"To  my  arguments  they  make,  and  can  make,  no  reply 
whatever,  yet  these  same  arguments  are  like  cannon-balls 
fired  into  Lake  Michigan!"  [The  dominie  is  fond  of 
military  similes.] 

This  coldness,  this  apathy,  is  the  only  thing  he  could 
ever  complain  of  in  his  daughter's  household.  He  strug- 
gled with  it  at  first,  blaming  himself,  of  course,  and  ask- 
ing wherein  he  had  failed  of  doing  his  full  duty  toward 
them.  Time  softened  this  regret,  but  later,  when  they 
took  the  occasion  of  his  being  retired  from  his  old  pastorate 
to  desert  the  faith  of  their  parents  and  take  one  of  the 
best  pews  in  St.  James',  then  the  iron  entered  his  soul. 

Nevertheless,  he  always  shares  their  birthday  dinners, 


ADVANCE,    FRIEND,    AND   GIVE  THE   COUNTERSIGN.  35 1 

and  dear  mamma  is  careful  (out  of  respect  to  his  feel- 
ings) not  to  forget  to  ask  him  to  say  grace. 

The  Fulcrum  and  the  Rostrum  are  both  gathered  to 
their  fathers,  and  the  place  that  knew  them  shall  know 
them  no  more  forever. 

Fargeon  is  sorry  he  has  no  son.  In  the  first  place,' 
there  is  in  his  heart  an  unsatisfied  longing  to  send  down 
to  posterity  the  name  of  old  Colin  Thorburn,  the  source 
of  all  this  prosperity  and  luxury.  [A  deep  sigh.]  In 
the  second  place,  it  would  be  pleasant  to  think  that  the 
uncommon  name  cf  Fargeon  was  not  to  die  out,  in  his 
branch,  with  him.  Half  a  dozen  stalwart  boys  would 
keep  alive  for  a  few  years  the  knowledge  that  their 
ancestor  fought  among  the  rest  at  Donelson  and  Shiloh. 
But  as  it  is — [another  sigh]. 

An  old  ragged  shirt  sleeve,  once  white  and  red,  now 
yellow  and  black,  is  tucked  away  somewhere — unless  it 
has  been  destroyed  with  other  rubbish. 

Well,  after  all  is  said  and  done,  the  major  has  more 
to  be  glad  of  than  to  be  sorry  for.  When,  every  year 
or  tv/o,  he  says  the  question  has  again  arisen  whether  he 
shall  get  a  new  leg  fitted,  or  keep  the  old  leg  and  get  a 
new  man  fitted  to  it,  he  doesn't  really  mean  it.  "It  is 
only  one    of    Papa's    jokes,  you    know."     So    he  treads 

through  the  world  the  even  tenor  of    his  way;     step 

clump;   step clump;   step clump;    step 

FINIS. 


Other  Works  by  the  same  Author: 


Zury,  the   Meanest  Man  in  Spring 
County. 

The   McVeys;   an   Episode. 


Boston:    Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


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